How I wish I could step into this garden
Just a temptation as I pass by
I wanted to know what the flowers said
And the gentle murmur of the wind in the sky.
My heart swayed with happiness
As I watched the upright poppies
The wind whistled while kissing the trees
And the jolly gardener watered them happily.
Perhaps the leaves so green, were busy
Preparing tasty dishes for the family!
The sweet smelling fragrance of that lovely environment
Got to my nostrils and tickled my mind.
The air so fresh and cool blowing there
Thick clusters of flowers merrily danced with flair
The grass was cut so short, it wept with joy
And the dew drops seemed like tears
That covered the face of a boy.
As the crimson morning sun arrived
White roses like cups of vanilla spread
I felt as if I was drowning
In those fragrant flowery beds.
The bell was about to ring
And I had to study for hours.
No more of blissful wandering
In that colourful world of flowers.
But somewhere in my mind did linger
The fragrant essence of red roses
Those cups of vanilla, pink poppies
Filled my imagination with pretty posy.
This poem was written by me when I was ten years old. I wrote this piece in the morning when I had just entered the school premises and as I was among the first few people to arrive in our school premises, I had plenty of time to spare before our school started thus getting influenced by mother nature I prepared this piece sitting on the steps that faced our headmistress’ garden in which we kids were not allowed. I always keep a rough register handy for my poems because I never know when something would strike.
– Shveta Sarin