The sea is still today
It's cerulean blue and gold
I think of the thoughts it carries
Within its hidden folds.
Its touch is soft and gentle
It soothes the ache of years
But I wonder how many waves
Are made from fallen tears.

Nishu Mathur

And gently falls the bakula
Upon the grass I tread
Fragrant flowers
Like fallen stars from the sky
A hundred poems to be read.

As I drink my tea
Through the window I see -
The lantanas growing tall
Besides the creepers on the wall.
Orange orbs on stalks of green
A butterfly  - all tangerine -
Suckling blooms, fluttering by
Beneath a cloudless, placid sky.
Flowering trees - no longer ****
Full of colour and ripening fruits.
The world it seems is blossoming
With summer and her offerings.