The sweet smell of the wet mud, like the smell of my favourite cake baking, reached my nostrils. The water drops on the triangular shaped gree leaf on the tree, danced a tango. The music of the breeze wheezed through

The door of the house is the threshold to the heart- The living room with the fire place is the life and love co-existing- The kitchen with exotic smells is the survival kit for existence- The kids' bedroom with teddys

Thanks Mr.P.Wrote it a very long time ago. I don't know what to do with it now.... Maybe I will revise, just keep the first few lines and the last few lines..

Thanks a lot Cookie. Glad that you liked it.

Thanks Anonymous. I appreciate your comments.

Would appreciate if someone comments on this... want to send it to a magazine...

I seem to be obsessed with this poem. Here is another revision of it... As I feel the first snow flake touch my hand, it pinches my skin. Cold breeze makes me shiver, as an old man without a stick. The vapor comes out from the

One bomb-in a fit to prove supremacy-Hiroshima. One bomb-to possess another's land-Kashmir. One bomb-to spread terror-London. Every bomb- Instant destruction- chemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />>> Half broken walls of tall

Check this site. If you still don't understand please come back here. http://andromeda.rutgers.edu/~jlynch/Terms/index.html

Yes,a beautiful poem indeed.Read it sometime back.Thanks for rekindling memories.