#crops
किस चित्रकार की शैली है,,खेतों में रंगत फैली है,
कई रंग उभर कर आए हैं ,मनभावन दृश्य लाए है,
*हर कोई न कर सकता, किसान की पहेली है।।
ये सरसों के पीले फूलों पर पराग भी आए है,
कुछ भंवरे भी इनसे मिलने आए है "
एक प्यारी सी महक छायी है "
बड़ी मनोरम रुत आयी है ,,
एक तो हरियाली, ऊपर से पीली चादर छायी है "
खेतों में जान, मानो फिर लौट आयी है ,,
मानो पहले तो ये सूरज को भी लपकेगी "
फिर समझ कर कुछ धरती के चरण चूमेगी ।।
फिर हवाओं का पहर चलता है,
फिर दिन भी यू कुछ ढलता है,
रात अंधेरी सी, कोहरा कुछ यू छाया है,
रक्षा में फिर इनकी खुद धरतीपुत्र आया है ||
संतान की भांति पोषित करता,
मानो पिता का फर्ज निभाता है,
रोज निहारा करता , हाथों से सहलाया करता है,
पर हालातों का मारा, खुद भूखा सो जाया करता है ||
फ़िर पेड़ो पर फलिया आयी है,,
जो उसने उम्मीद लगायी है,,
फिर संघर्ष का दौर यू चलता है ,
ये मौसम का रूठापन खलता है ।।
चिंता में जिसको नींद न आती, खेतों का पहरा देता है "
ये बेमौसम बारिश आजाना , उसको ठहरा देता है,,
बैठा रहता है रात भर बस अलाप ही उसका सहारा है "
लेता है, एक कश चिलम कि सपनों में खो जाता है ,,
इस कठिन घड़ी में भी , अपनी फसल की रक्षा करता है,,
भय भी प्रतीत सा होता, मन विचलित कर जाती हैं "
जब आसमान में ये काली घटाए छाती है,,
इन ठंडी सुर्ख हवाओ में, इन काली घटाओ में "
चांद भी छिप जाता है, पर वो पहरा लगाता है ।।
इतनी मेहनत और कठिनाई से जो भी पाता है "
क्या लिखा लेख ऐसा उसने, वो कैसी भयमाता है ,,
फिर भी वो मन में संतुष्टि लाता है,
भूल कर अतीत भविष्य में चला जाता है ।।
पहले से कुछ अच्छा करने की उसने ठानी है,,
झेलकर भी बेमौसम की मार उसने हार कहा मानी है ।।
इस बार फ़िर कुछ नया वो उपजायेगा "
सोचता है कभी वक्त भी उसका आयेगा ।।
रुका नहीं कभी वो न कभी हार स्वीकारी है,
खेतों में उकेरा करता अक्सर वो उसकी चित्रकारी है ।।
उनकी इस मेहनत पर मेरा लेखन जारी है,,
मैं हि क्या, पूरा देश जिनका आभारी है ।।
जो हर वक्त खड़ा चट्टान की भांति कूड़ कूड़ सजाता है
जिसे कोई कहता किसान, और धरतीपुत्र कहलाता है।।
By Mr. नितिन कुमार मीना
Belong to the great village mohacha
✍🏻 ✍🏻
*For my _ Nation_backbone
Nov 4, 2025
Nov 4, 2025 at 10:45 PM UTC
Get it handled she said as I crawled out bed
And she was trying to be nice I'm sure
I forgot to remove the goo and the glue
And nails I left in the shed
What does it mean cause I forgot to clean
The barn where the animals live
The storm came around with a wild howling sound
And messed up the whole gall **** scene
The crops got blown around all through the town
Just like the storms in the past
Neighbors were in a hurry and it was a big scurry
To keep all of their stuff nailed down
Well this poem went crazy cause my brains a bit hazy
And words just seem to pop in
It makes a little sense but I'm not very tense
So I'll end it here you will see...
Brian Hill - 2020 # 59
Feb 28, 2020
Feb 28, 2020 at 10:34 AM UTC
When water flows
downward it goes
and those around
rejoice the sound
from heaven's store
showers galore.
Farmers are pleased
their burdens eased
for crops shall grow
harvest will show
and dams get filled
scarcity killed.
Soils come alive
and start to thrive
moisture absorbed
below it's stored
to do the work
it doesn't shirk.
Nature's seasons
have their reasons
they come and leave
and don't deceive
when water flows
good it bestows.
The rains that fall
on parched land stall
drought in a place
and then may trace
a river's course
gravity's force.
It's not alright
to see the sight
of too much rain
that's come again
in a short time
and out of clime.
When water flows
but harm it shows
who is to blame
to change the game
and to restore
harmony's shore?
_____________
Nov 20, 2019
Nov 20, 2019 at 10:15 PM UTC
Crops crave for water at a hill
Thirst visible on their stalks
The sky gushes a coal black
_But no._ It is not rain.
_Nothing_ to quench a crop’s thirst.
Only the manifestation of darkness
roaming the skies
_And yes._ Walking on a road, intimidated,
Before me, in the distance:
_Nothing_ but dead man’s hill
_But now_ a smirking old woman:
Silently still.
May 10, 2018
May 10, 2018 at 10:02 PM UTC
My cotton candy blue eyes squint and
hide from the flow of orange marmalade
that drips off of big and burning Mr. Sun.
Splat! Splat! drums my stubby hands as I
play patty cake with the sticky sticky mud
that pools underneath green skyscrapers.
I like to come here and visit the fuzzy crawlers
and the yellow belly bees, (Don't touch!), and
even the scary green worms. Brother does not...
Brother is orange and wet and hot and sick;
Mr. Sun gives him all the sweet jelly, and
the dust from the coughing metal beasts
is making him ghoulish (or so mommy says).
He pants and he pants like he's finished
a looong race or like he's running away
from Mr. Farmer again, but he picks out
dinner, a tasty, yellow trophy (1st place!).
He looks down and smiles at me as I
make coco-cake to bring to his big party;
his teeth have orange in them too, now.
I wish Mr. Sun dried his eyes like me.
Aug 26, 2017
Aug 26, 2017 at 3:18 PM UTC
The Heat, and not the sports team
Has come here for a while
It's enough to set some records
And to **** the farmers smiles
Humidity and high temperatures
Add to make our life like hell
It's drying up our creeks and streams
There's no water in our wells
We do not use our ovens
To cook our meals, not now at least
We just leave meat on the counter
The outside heat will cook the beast
Our lawns are brown and dormant
But the weeds are growing strong
There is chickweed and crabgrass where once
Green grass did once belong
The splash pads are on overtime
To help keep people cool
We've cooling centers everywhere
They're in all of the schools
In order to cool down at home
I have my a/c set to freeze
And if at times this doesn't work
I watch Christmas DVD's
Remember hats and sunscreen
to keep the heat off of your head
In fact it is so god ****** hot
I tan while I'm in bed
I remember as a child
Summer never got as hot as this
Compared to recent temperatures
Is like a blow job to a kiss
We pray for heat in winter
And in the summer, the reverse
I know I would like the snow
The heat is much, much, worse
Instead of just complaining
I should just take it, brave the heat
But for now, I'll watch my movies
Sing my carols, cool my feet
I know that come this winter
I'll be crying for the heat
Just remind me of this little poem
And I'll shut up, and take my seat.
Jul 17, 2012
Jul 17, 2012 at 7:16 PM UTC
life is simple, yet it is complicated.
it's like planting crops. you were the farmer, and the things you do were the crops. your maturity will affect the way you treat the soil, and the soil was your life itself. your faith in God will affect the way you plant the crops, it was the way you do things for others. your heart and conscience will control the growth of your plants. your experiences will teach you how to take care of your plants. tests and difficulties were the things that make farmers stronger. and the yields were to be reap.
but there are a lot more than the mentioned things above about this life, find them by yourself. appreciate what you have in your life and you'll love this life even more. have the better quality of life:)
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 9:09 AM UTC