Go On Painting
How fast thou move with the sound, ye brook, I find;
No boat, no dive, yet, you are so beautiful, I drank,
Thy sight, a throat full opiate; I went to swoon,
A nature's painting! Lovely Curios; I will be back soon,
In the lap of high mountains and with curly dense proud wood,
With its fragrance; nose, ears, eyes and mind swooshed,
With the heavenly chorus in the silence of their commotion,
Sun slowly slid down; rolled, in the mountain slop with hood.
A little far there's the Himalaya with shroud; stood, the snow,
Melts into the life that leaps shallowly unto plain, I know,
Pure and chaste, grief, worries, agony all they wash and
Moves towards plain being serious and deep, hand to hand.
With the nature's color, willing to be painted and shine,
Life; yet to know! recklessly and delicately, Is it really mine?
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Comments about this poem (Go On Painting by Aftab Alam )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
A Dream Within A Dream
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
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