Poem

Chaubattia Gardens, Ranikhet

Chaubattia Gardens, Ranikhet

By Bhakti Sharma



Leave me alone

In the dense wild jungle,

Let me stand still

Let me watch

Every tree,

Rooted yet free.


The herbs and shrubs,

The myriads of deodars

The unusually tall surai,

The eucalyptus and poplar,

All wearing a green cloak,

With the pines and oak.





The poison ivy overgrown,

The red flower of the rhododendron.

The apple and plums,

The peaches and chestnuts,

The figs and walnuts.

The jungle berries

The fruitless cherries

All in lovely green attire.

Laden with fruits

Only to be admired.


An eerie silence,

Broken by rattling of leaves,

Below my feet.

All around me

Law of Nature enforced in a jungle,

Followed by trees

Obeyed by  the beasts

O what an unforgettable treat!


              

( 10kms from Ranikhet, Uttar Pradesh, India,  Chaubatia is full of gardens and commands a fascinating view of the Himalayas.  Spread over 265 acres of land, it is one of the largest horticulture gardens in the country.  Bhakti Sharma can be contacted at bhakti_sharma@yahoo.co.uk)

Poem

Flowers in Spring

Flowers in Spring                                    

                                                                       

Me and you
In the lap of the mountains,                                                   
Under the watchful eyes                                       
Of Mother Nature                                                                                
The vast spread of forest                                           
Beckoning us with open arms.

The petunias, the dahlias,

The gladioli, the flocks

The poppies, the hollyhocks.

The butterflies like pansies,

The bridal white of daisies, 

The cacti in variety crazy

Intoxicating us with exotic colours

and a vivid mix of fragrance.


The parakeets and pheasants,
The chorus of crickets,
Bees, mites and insects.
Amidst the scintillating view
Of  tall towering pines,
Fills our hearts
With abiding joy.

I throw my arms up

Watching the radiance of

The morning Sun

And give a cry of exhilaration.


          By Bhakti Sharma




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