He would declare and could himself believe ... That the birds there in all the garden round...
Poems forever
By Robert Frost
He would declare and could himself believe
That the birds there in all the garden round
From having heard the daylong voice of Eve
Had added to their own an oversound,
Her tone of meaning but without the words.
Admittedly an eloquence so soft
Could only have had an influence on birds
When call or laughter carried it aloft.
Be that as may be, she was in their song.
Moreover her voice upon their voices crossed
Had now persisted in the woods so long
That probably it never would be lost.
Never again would birds’ song be the same.
And to do that to birds was why she came.
By Zainab
I boarded a token bus to nowhere
With an aura of tranquillity.
I boarded a sunlit tale
Whining through the clashes of reality.
Big hearts and small hands,
Useless in the eyes of a creature called human.
I saw the angels for the first time.
They called them incapable,
With twisted thoughts and faint minds.
They smiled at the jabbing life,
Quirky steps with stained time.
They showed me a gem of life.
By Anum Kabir
We board the train of life,
A journey we can’t deny.
We will cease, reaching two destinations,
Surely, but not of our choice.
How ironic!
We live a life,
Victims of demons,
Despite gasping air of envy and vice,
Still aspiring to cultivate
Roses of peace and sacrifice,
Walking on the path of hell,
Wishing for a garden of paradise.
By Hafsa Rizwan
On the windy rails of egos,
Slippery slides of temptation,
Gloomy growls of darkness,
Pleasing pursuits of the self,
Deadly ditches of failure,
Sleek slits of hope,
Falls into falsifications,
I have been looking for me!
And me was sneaking into corners,
Wandering through
the corridors of oblivion,
Looking for a curtain to hide
from the face of enlightenment.
Me was dark and mysterious.
The illusion of mighty me
surpassed whatever was ethereal,
and I gave up.
Now I am scared of
the bouncing back of yearning,
the confrontation with the real me,
the pounding thunder of longing!
By Abid Agha
Whenever it rains and water flows
Outside my home in small streams,
It ignites my excitement.
I run to fetch colourful paper
Kept carefully in my school bag,
And craft paper boats
In different sizes and shapes.
Holding them gently,
I rush to sit beside the stream
And set my paper boats afloat.
As the downpour continues,
My paper boats sail away,
And my little heart drifts
With each fast-moving flow.
By the time the rain stops,
The colourful boats disappear,
Having never reached a destination,
Leaving me empty-handed and sad.
Years later, I realised
My life floats on the river of time,
As fragile and aimless
As the boats I set free in the rain,
Drifting through joys and sorrows,
Triumphs and tears.
