ODE TO WINTER
Keats once wrote :
”A thing of beauty is a joy for ever”
And you are Joy,
My Beloved – Winter!
You are cold, you are dead,
But there is beauty in your death.
People detest you
For you bring storm and flood
But to me,
You give freshness and blood.
Cold air on cold mornings
Touches my cheeks, and
Gives them a rosy hue
People still shudder
At the thought of you
For you disturb lovers’
Solitary meetings
But my love is You,
You render me lifeless,
You leave me barren,
I long for a dead existence, because
Who cares for renewed lives
When there is pleasure in Death…?
—— Apoorva Shekher
THE UNICORN
The unicorn has its own magic and spell,
Around her neck is a giant silver bell.
From her horn dust will fall,
She only comes when she hears her call.
The colour of her is crystal white,
Go to her, she will not bite.
Her beauty is so wonderful,
Her mane is ever so beautiful.
The golden hoofs on her feet,
Look like like a rippled golden sheet.
Looking at her diamond eyes,
You see her under fluffy, pink skies.
She swings her tail from side to side,
When it’s day she will always hide.
Her canter is ever so soft,
I saw her first from my loft.
She will be a horse in the mom,
I know she’s special because she’s a unicorn.
Vishal Koul,
Science College,
Jammu
BOOKS
Books are our best friend
Their knowledge never end
They take us to the bright future
They are our best tutor.
Books teach us how to live
But Good readers are only few
Books are the sea of knowledge
They are with us from school to college.
Books are for younger and elder
They are our life’s block builder
Books have only few pages
But their knowledge remains
ages to ages
Niyushi Pandita
VIII A
KILLERS OF THE GIRL-CHILD
They kill the girl child in her mother’s womb
No eye ever wept, none built any of her tomb
The girl was unknown, having any of her face
Had no value of any sort, without her grace
None would remember her, as her no record kept
Like the dirty rain water in a gutter she was swept
Who called her darling when own parents abhor
Turning their heads aside, looked not at her any more
She could be Sita, Mariam, Mary, if allowed to live
Make scientific inventions or scale the Everest cliff
If her parents had some faith in her growth’s sway
She could have surpassed in all records of the day
If her ignorant parents could not have gone astray
Behaved not like rustics, but respected each girl child
Thought like a sane human, not just like a silly wild
Each life has wide horizon to impress the whole world
Parents have right thinking and their vision is not blurred
Dr. Narhari Raizada
162- A/D Gandhi Nagar, Jammu
SOURCE OF ENJOYMENT
It’s raining, so amazing to see,
It’s making music, so melodious to feel,
The sizzling lighting, the thundering voice,
It falls on leaves giving a serene contentment,
It changes into a pearl when sits
On blooming flowers,
It grabs all my sadness and enlivens me,
It makes me feel that nature is always with me,
Every drop that touches my skins,
Creates an ecstatic feeling,
As it begins to dilute,
All anger accumulates around me
It creates a ferocious scene of darkness,
By gifting a colorful rainbow,
It shows its kindness,
It always joins with falling tears of mine,
And mitigates my lonliness.
S. Hansika
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