You may plan ..................but he plans better!
Two little sisters,
with their tiny dreams
and their small fingers,
drew and designed,
the kingdom they would reign,
the future they believed,
a vision they perceived.
Elder sister desired richness and fame,
never ending glory and name,
beauty and wealth,
everlasting youth and health.
Her views crossed the sky of optimism.
They called her ' materialism'.
The younger sister had in mind
to leave the world behind,
like the birds and the bees
be a vagabond
seeking eternal peace.
Floating on the leaf of enthusiasm,
they named her 'spiritualism'.
Unknown to them, not very far
stood the waves of nature,
holding the axe of future,
to cut and chop,
wash their dreams and hope.
The wind of fate smiled,
moved silently and curled around them,
to carry the sand,
of their future map,
on his lap,
to a distant land !
The wise old sun,
enjoyed the sight with fun,
of the two girls,
and the wind ,and the waves,
for he knew,
any one can draw and design
their future map and plan,
but none can reserve it,
nor preserve it,
for the heaven knows to give it
to the man who deserve it!
Close
Great it was too good and is it that you have won the contest still i dont know how this thing works any way goodluk and do better
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satish sir,
earlier I envied your work.....................now I appreciate this write..........
you are really great.............................now my poem appears to be a simpler version of
a great master....................
simply great .............loved it ...........and bit jealous tooooooooooooo
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thanks bhavna for the comment
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thanks anneshwa................thanks a lot
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Its such a thoughtful poem..........I just wonder how you managed to imagine this way........too good to be true.
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Ajit Sir.. tatzzz indeeed a well written one...
d words justified d title so welllllll...
any one can draw and design
their future map and plan,
but none can reserve it,
nor preserve it,
for the heaven knows to give it
to the man who deserve it!
rgds
Bhavna
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Ajit
When I got some spare time I sat down to edit one of your prize winning poems. I, as a rule, attempt to do it even on great poets just to learn to re-write! In fact, till I did my work I was unaware of your winning. I thought I would send it for your reading. It's just my pastime. It may be taken as my reading of your poem, thereby kind of a literary remark.
Satish
Two little sisters
And their tiny dreams
Their small fingers
Drawing the kingdom
They would reign
Designing the future
They believed in
And a vision perceived
Elder sister desired
Richness and fame
Glory and name
Beauty and wealth
Youth and health
Flying high in the sky!
Being known as ‘materialism'.
The younger one thought
Of living like a vagabond
Seeking eternal peace
Branded as 'spiritualism'.
But the sprawling shore of fate
Oblivious to them, smiling with
The power to hack and shape
What they drew in their dreams!
The wind of destiny breezing around
Playing with the sand on their map
To carry some to distant lands.
The wise old sun brooding over
The unpredictability of their fun
For who can preserve their design
On the sandy beach from wind and waves
But the man who wants to hold
The hand that drew!
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Ajit
When I got some spare time I sat down to edit one of your prize winning poems. I as a rule attempt to do it even on great poets just to learn to re-write! In fact till I did my work I was unaware of the winning. I thought I would send it for you to read. It's just my pastime.
Satish
Two little sisters
And their tiny dreams
Their small fingers
Drawing the kingdom
They would reign
Designing the future
They believed in
And a vision perceived
Elder sister desired
Richness and fame
Glory and name
Beauty and wealth
Youth and health
Flying high in the sky!
Being known as ‘materialism'.
The younger one thought
Of living like a vagabond
Seeking eternal peace
Branded as 'spiritualism'.
But the sprawling shore of fate
Oblivious to them, smiling with
The power to hack and shape
What they drew in their dreams!
The wind of destiny breezing around
Playing with the sand on their map
To carry some to distant lands.
The wise old sun brooding over
The unpredictability of their fun
For who can preserve their design
On the sandy beach from wind and waves
But the man who wants to hold
The hand that drew!
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Ajit
Congratulations for winning the contest!
By the way I had sent you an invitation, which is pending. Please sign it for I just want to send you a note personally, which I tried but failed for I am not part of your net work!
Satish
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thanks cindrella king for the comment and appreciation
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