Beautiful Darjeeling in West Bengal I heard you call my name.
Like a siren you have lured me to your slopes and sun filled glades.
How could I resist the urge to come and join you there.
To be assailed by your beauty, smell your perfumed air.

I sit here in your paradise, from my pen the words do flow.
I sit and write of what I see and hear and watch the poem grow.
I know now and the meanings clear. Darjeeling the abode of God.
For only from his mighty hand could such a place be forged.

And so I sit and write of the glory that I see
And as I wonder at the glories another sits with me.
I cannot leave this beauty but alas I have no choice.
I would sing of beautiful Darjeeling but I do not have the voice...