Tuesday, February 16, 2010

N R Is ( In verse)

The migrating birds/ all flying far/ through higher space of azre sky
now perched beyond / on alien branch/ and scanning green /all around/ for better feed.


Yet such uncertain time/ assures none/ of those promise / that they dreamt/all youthful time/


To settle down /unto a nest/with birdies young/ or fly back again /through avian space/and the tired wings / now shake and flap / just to match / this uncertain time !
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