Friday, 27 September 2013


The green festoons flutter in October
to the tune of the chill breeze.
So happy with Nature, what doth thy utter? 
I captured this moment on my lens to freeze.

Many misty morning, 
with woollens on, I causally tread.
skeletal frame, bare standing 
yellow carpet, beneath,  spread.

I sat on the bench wooden,
dry leaves at my feet rustling
with a heavy heart laden
I avoided them crushing.

The worker with his broom long
gathered the debris dry 
with a whistle on his lips and a song
my eyes wished for a cry.

He set the heap on fire
the flames burnt the pyre
reduced to ashes black
As I turned back

On a final depart
the tree gracious
To mankind , a lesson impart
exuded warmth, generous.


The tree with its leaves and flowers is a living symbol of sacrifice , always giving  to mankind and in death , it burns to give warmth to the atmosphere and making way for new leaves to sprout, continuing the cycle of rejuvenation. 

For : PoetryJam