The Joy In Creating Poem by C. P. Sharma

When the mind is pregnant
the self silently blooms
The sense of new creation
in the heart looms

The creative minds feel
its beauty and zoom
The very delivery of it
the deserts perfume

What is the joy in creating
Only the creator knows
The pangs of delivering
too he alone enjoys

Peacock on his plume
and wings takes pride
But his ugly legs save
from the hunter's strides

There are traps in beauty
Saving grace in ugliness
The perfect beauty, ever
in its monotony suffers