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When light was treading the horizons of darkness When leaves were rustling in zephyr When butterflies were fluttering across the wilderness When foamy flakes were shimmering like eyes of a heifer I saw her; a noble matron Enjoying the alluring aroma of rose Her eyes were glistening like a naked natron Sitting like my mother; in a statuesque pose She gently drew me closer And served my past as ambrosia And told me to drink the elixir of present for future Then like my mother, she gave me a bunch of gloriosa As she started climbing the stairs to Shangri-La My dream ended as I tossed and turned under the sheet of chinchilla.
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Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 2:28 AM UTC
A sonnet
When light was treading the horizons of darkness When leaves were rustling in zephyr When butterflies were fluttering across the wilderness When foamy flakes were shimmering like eyes of a heifer I saw her; a noble matron Enjoying the alluring aroma of rose Her eyes were glistening like a naked natron Sitting like my mother; in a statuesque pose She gently drew me closer And served my past as ambrosia And told me to drink the elixir of present for future Then like my mother, she gave me a bunch of gloriosa As she started climbing the stairs to Shangri-La My dream ended as I tossed and turned under the sheet of chinchilla.
Was she my mother? I tried writing a sonnet. The rhyne scheme is abab cdcd efef gg
krishna-mehra
Written by
20/M/NIT Hamirpur
Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 2:28 AM UTC
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