Thou, a daughter of dharma, lain in the palms of Nature,
Every sigh breathed of Nature wedded in thee to breathe,
A unique thought thou art, blended in the antique language,
A star captivating with thy ethical philosophy crowned with pearls
Of etiquette. Thy hilarity hath jingles of laughter and mellifluousness.
Consistent are thy words, Oh! For thou hast struck the right of the line,
Simple is thy way, humble is thy disposition, translucent is thy words,
An artistic artefact art thou engraved in Keatsian ‘Grecian Urn'!
And thou art a child of the mother of divine bliss couched in Keats's Endymion.
Thou, a lioness of solemnity! And thy task is simply momentous to be measured,
Thy eyes have verve with the power of swiftness to count the moments of age,
Thy statements swathed with potential propositions capped with codes of puzzle.
Thou simply a relic of Keatsian urn drawn toward antique philosophy,
What a thought thou hast kept deep in thy heart, so just and sane.
The brook dwells in bliss and traverses thro' the way of silent tremor,
Ripples of vigour chant fun and frolic when thy gestures pass the way,
Strings of lyre throb melodies when notes of thy heart splash ‘cross the sky.
Thou, the child of blissful Nature, art dwelling in the song of Green Nature.
Behold! Thy words be thy speech exquisitely wedded in mellifluousness,
Thy bravery might be thy sword; thy swiftness be thy sling,
And thy strides shall break hurdles and thy way is onward.
Thou laugh, pearls drizzle; thou smile, the west wind floats,
The dream of Nature doth flash ‘cross thy waving hands.
Blossoms of Nature sparkle by thy touch of adoration,
Songs of earth reverberate by thy words of love,
Fragrance of friendship traverses by thy demeanour.
And thou art a canopy caring with sharing togetherness (friendship)
VERY NICE I LIKE MUCH THE VERSE
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