White In The Sky
When the sun goes down,
I rise from a small town.
At night I stand in the sky,
When the yellow sun says good bye.
Sometimes I am not there,
This much you have to bear.
When I come back,
I go on the same track.
In me you might see a face,
But don’t think it’s a strange case.
I am non-other than the moon,
You all can’t see me at 12 noon.
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Comments about this poem (White In The Sky by Mridula Gupta )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
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