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Fear No More
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I WISH I COULD
There are a lot of things, I wish I Couid be. Like a diver Down under the sea. Or an pilot. Flying pans in the sky. Or a cricketer, Hitting every ball for a six. Or an engineer. Who everything can fix. Or a doctor, Taking care of the sick. A chef after whose dishes. Your fingers you will lick. But here comes Mum, With samosas for tea. And at times this. I' m glad i'm me.
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There are a lot of things, I wish I Couid be. Like a diver Down under the sea. Or an pilot. Flying pans in the sky. Or a cricketer, Hitting every ball for a six. Or an engineer. Who everything can fix. Or a doctor, Taking care of the sick. A chef after whose dishes. Your fingers you will lick. But here comes Mum, With samosas for tea. And at times this. I' m glad i'm me.
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rupe****@gmail.com
13 Nov 2026
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Likes: 1
LITTLE THIGS
Little drops of water Little grains of sand Make the mighty ocean, And the pleasant land. So the little moments, Humble though they be, Make the mighty ages Of eternity. Thus our little errors, Lead the soul away, Form the path of virtue, Far in sin to stray. Little deeds of kindness, Little words of love, Help to make earth happy, Like the heaven above.
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Little drops of water Little grains of sand Make the mighty ocean, And the pleasant land. So the little moments, Humble though they be, Make the mighty ages Of eternity. Thus our little errors, Lead the soul away, Form the path of virtue, Far in sin to stray. Little deeds of kindness, Little words of love, Help to make earth happy, Like the heaven above.
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rupe****@gmail.com
13 Nov 2026
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Likes: 0
Trees
I think that I shall never see A pome lovely as a tree. A tree whose hungry mouth is prest Against the earth's sweet flowing breast; A tree that looks at God all pay And lifts her leafy arms to pray; A tree that may in summer wear A nest of robins in her hair; Upon whose bosom snow has lain; Who intimattely lives with rain. Poems are made by fools like me, But only God can make a tree.
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I think that I shall never see A pome lovely as a tree. A tree whose hungry mouth is prest Against the earth's sweet flowing breast; A tree that looks at God all pay And lifts her leafy arms to pray; A tree that may in summer wear A nest of robins in her hair; Upon whose bosom snow has lain; Who intimattely lives with rain. Poems are made by fools like me, But only God can make a tree.
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rupe****@gmail.com
13 Nov 2026
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On Killing a Tree
It takes much time to kill a tree, Not a simple jab of the knife Will do it has grown Slowly consuming the earth Rising out of it feeding Upon its crust, adsording Years of sunlight air water, And out of its leprous hide Sprouting leaves. So hack and chop But this alone wont do it. NOt so much pain will do it The bleeding bark will heal And from close to the ground Will rise curled green twig...
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It takes much time to kill a tree, Not a simple jab of the knife Will do it has grown Slowly consuming the earth Rising out of it feeding Upon its crust, adsording Years of sunlight air water, And out of its leprous hide Sprouting leaves. So hack and chop But this alone wont do it. NOt so much pain will do it The bleeding bark will heal And from close to the ground Will rise curled green twigs, Miniature boughs Which if unchecked will expand again To former size.
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rupe****@gmail.com
13 Nov 2026
30 Views
Likes: 0
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