The mourning of the trees

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The mourning of the trees

The winter rocks made a call
As the woodcutter takes his axe and makes a fall
Beyond the scene of grasses and reaps
Where the old wife's tale takes a leap
It was for his bread
That he made the trees so dread
The chucking of trees made a sound
For all the trees to grieve and mourn
An oak tree fell apart
Tearing all ages faced from start
At insanity one paves way to God
In man's vanity the trees were cut and built
All thats strong was made of trees
In man's godown all was easy and cheap..

      S ANANDHI
      21/04/20

Comments

Anandhi Srinivasan said…
....i would rather seek to hide my face without the mirror at all. Concluded the poem with beautiful lines. Fantastic.
Suresh uncle
May 1, 2020 at 11:59 PM
Anandhi Srinivasan said…
A mirror usually reflects one's figure and ultimately it is one's own mind and personality that is reflected. It is the love of oneself one sees in the mirror. While one enjoys the reflection the wrinkles disturb. It is a fine finish to hide my face without the mirror. A stranger in the mirror? You surprise me with your choice of themes! Once again a good poem!
Manoharan sir
May 2, 2020 at 12:00 AM
Anandhi Srinivasan said…
Very impressive. Congrats
Vaiyavan
Anandhi, Mind alone is the mirror reflects the time
You pointed out it. Well done.
To Anandhi..From Periappa.
May 2, 2020 at 12:01 AM
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