My words are very less
Yet feeling blessed
As I convey my gratitude
To all my loveable teachers.
When ink spreads on paper
Moulds one at galore
There is always
Something beyond
The topic written
On the blackboard.
Childhood of innocence
Looks at the bright light
Beaming towards her
Perceives something
And weaves her
Dreams with insight.
As the days pass by
She climbs the stairs at a time
Probably call it a foundation
From where she weaves
Her future visions
Thereby building
The perfect structure of
Precious womanhood!
© 2018 Geetha Jayakumar.
All rights reserved!
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 11:16 AM UTC
My words are very less
Yet feeling blessed
As I convey my gratitude
To all my loveable teachers.
When ink spreads on paper
Moulds one at galore
There is always
Something beyond
The topic written
On the blackboard.
Childhood of innocence
Looks at the bright light
Beaming towards her
Perceives something
And weaves her
Dreams with insight.
As the days pass by
She climbs the stairs at a time
Probably call it a foundation
From where she weaves
Her future visions
Thereby building
The perfect structure of
Precious womanhood!
© 2018 Geetha Jayakumar.
All rights reserved!