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My Morning Walk

Enjoying the fragrance spreading from
The yellow flowers of my bitter guard plants
And looking at the greenery of my paddy fields
Every day I take a morning walk
Early awaken, bees, dragonflies, birds
And butterflies always give me a company
Glimmering with morning rays
The pond in the middle of my fields
Looks as a golden crown
On my way here is a stream that
Always rushed to the ladies
Bathing and washing their clothes
That is a venue too discussing hot gossip
Among them.They always wish me
Calling as Jann, though I do not like it
The road is always busy with my
Hi, bye friends, most of them are
Milkman carrying milk cans
The songs from nearby KALI temple
Always break the silence
The Kali temple is my destination
I will pray as every morning
‘’Makes my life pleasant and happy’’.

Submitted: Sunday, July 07, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, July 17, 2013


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Comments about this poem (Golden Passion by Jayachandran Chakrapany )

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  • Heather Wilkins (7/24/2013 6:00:00 PM)

    a good write about your morning walk nice imagery

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  • Chetna Sharma (7/8/2013 1:37:00 AM)

    Beautiful poem, well written!

  • Chetna Sharma (7/8/2013 1:36:00 AM)

    Beautiful poem, well written on the topic usually less picked up

  • Chetna Sharma (7/8/2013 1:35:00 AM)

    excellent poem, an unsual topic well picked adn written!

  • Shahzia Batool (7/7/2013 4:37:00 AM)

    Someone wrote somewhere that...... early morning walk sets the tone for the day......., so its complement can be seen in the last lines of the poem which carries a poetic beginning with an apt description...The Morning Walk is a topic kids are mostly fed up of, but i must say it can be a topic with more scope of creative expression of both observation and imagination like the line...
    bees, dragonflies, birds
    And butterflies always give me a company...

    i quote here a passage of beauty...
    Fog is snagged like Halloween on the high cedars and firs, their tops disappearing above. Below, the familiar path winds darkly through the cathedral, the forest floor musky as truffles and wet with dew and the eyes of autumn spiders. A Winter wren notes her privacy from a snowberry bush. Somewhere up ahead a Barred owl calls and a nearer one, perhaps an errant mate, calls back, overlapping in a higher, more ladylike return. Then I'm wondering if it's the female owl whose voice is deeper.

    This morning we have no flashlight or camera or brush- it's a time of thought and feeling, a time for the day's plans to unfurl.

    Another beautiful poem! ! !

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