poetry
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Poem Down an English lane, where spring exhales,I roamed, entranced, by flowering trails.Petals swirled in sunlight’s tender beam,A chorus of hues, a woven dream. Cherry’s soft pink, magnolia’s snow,Lilac’s faint blush where breezes flow.Each shade a murmur to heart and thought,A cooling breath, with kindness wrought. Rose’s bold crimson sparked quiet flame,Jasmine’s pale star soothed
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In the heart of the Amazon rainforest, where the canopy stretches high into the sky, there lived a family of Harpy Eagles. These majestic birds, with their piercing eyes and enormous wingspans, were the rulers of the skies, feared and revered by all other creatures in the jungle. The family consisted of Arion and Leila,
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Shall I speak or hold my tongue, When truth is bitter, yet unsung? My words of care, they turn away, Yet silence haunts me every day. To see their steps on paths I fear, Hurts my heart, but do they hear? My love compels, my voice must rise, Though met with doubt and clouded eyes.
Maq Masi Blog 