Frozen in time, with words unsaid, and voices unheard,
Frozen, like the icicles on trees, that only melt in due time,
Frozen with love hidden inside, and unexpressed,
Frozen, because nature is too harsh and unbearable,
Frozen and paused, while slow tears stream down the eyes,
Frozen in cold chains, with no space to fly.
Ruqaiya Lokhand
It is this morning that I love,
Where greens in garden spring along,
From small to tall, they all appeal,
And, refresh me on the morning walk.
When fall arrives and they die out,
From green to yellow to orange they change,
With purple, pink and red on side,
They show their beauty one last time.
Dew rests on leaves, washing them out,
And Sun gives them all, a hot, warm bath,
Glistening and glowing with colors all kind,
Making a sad heart happy with last good bye.
And, when autumn sojourns, clearing them out,
The last look of love is never forgone,
Hustling with wind, the leaves fly away,
And so, they’re beautiful, even when they fall.
From New Jersey, with love.
Ruqaiya Lokhand.
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