Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
MY KITE A girl small, requests her uncle for some "manja" and a kite. Then goes up to the terrace quietly, choosing a lonely site. Writing something on the kite, when away from others sight. She then tries to fly it high up to heaven, in a hurry; with a push light. The kite finally soars up, Heavenward; after some struggle n fight. Suddenly her family, after a long time, see on her face a smile bright. The kite now, far away is, and zooming to a height; When suddenly it is cut off and is soon out of everyone's sight. When her they approach to console, see they, a smile bright. Surprised they are n dumb founded, to see her dancing with all her might. Ask her they, why happy she is about this; on seeing this plight. Replies the cute little girl, my kite has, my mother reached; n will soon be in her sight. I have sent my love n asked her to return; with ink blue on this kite white. Soon, o very soon, the kite will reach Heaven, n will be within my mum's sight. With tears they hugged her; knew they, nothing could be done, about the orphan's plight. Armin Dutia Motashaw
0
Jan 9, 2019
Jan 9, 2019 at 4:24 PM UTC
My Kite
MY KITE A girl small, requests her uncle for some "manja" and a kite. Then goes up to the terrace quietly, choosing a lonely site. Writing something on the kite, when away from others sight. She then tries to fly it high up to heaven, in a hurry; with a push light. The kite finally soars up, Heavenward; after some struggle n fight. Suddenly her family, after a long time, see on her face a smile bright. The kite now, far away is, and zooming to a height; When suddenly it is cut off and is soon out of everyone's sight. When her they approach to console, see they, a smile bright. Surprised they are n dumb founded, to see her dancing with all her might. Ask her they, why happy she is about this; on seeing this plight. Replies the cute little girl, my kite has, my mother reached; n will soon be in her sight. I have sent my love n asked her to return; with ink blue on this kite white. Soon, o very soon, the kite will reach Heaven, n will be within my mum's sight. With tears they hugged her; knew they, nothing could be done, about the orphan's plight. Armin Dutia Motashaw
Written by
Jan 9, 2019
Jan 9, 2019 at 4:24 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem