Theme: Poetry

Come Home



The land of labour,
where hopes never end,
for saints, it is harbour
and histrionic for a friend.

With open blue sky,
and land full of trees,
where falcons fly
gushing through the breeze.

With city of temples,
and city of locks,
with city of bangles
and city of lords. 

With rivers full of diyas
and houses lit with lamps,
lush field of crops
and adventure of muddy tramps.

The chirping of birds 
and grazing of herds.
It's beauty so immense,
im short of words.

With mountains on one end
and ocean on the other,
it's out of love
we call it our mother.

Come home my friend,
come to my land.
'Incredible India'
is where I stand.


20-Jan-2012

More By  :  Anushree Pal

Views: 1397     Comments: 3

Comments on this Poem

Comment Very expressive & touching...

rjvikas
13-May-2012 14:52 PM

Comment thankyou :)

odyssey
24-Jan-2012 10:37 AM

Comment very sweet poem!!

Rupradha
23-Jan-2012 12:06 PM


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