Monday 11 December 2017

Sunrise (poem)

As the pale yellow light spreads across the sky,
The morning bird chirps shrill and high.

The trees and flowers are painted with dew,
The butterfly wakes up, feeling beautiful and new.

And as people wake up slowly, rubbing their eyes,
Far in the Eastern side, they see the sunrise.

~ Anoushka Sabnis



What peace means to me

What peace means to me - Is a world with smiles and glee! No wars or terrorist attacks, Or stolen goods in sacks. Friends...