Poem : Proud Prelude

On this day of the first touch

Of mildest chill at dawn,

The freshness can infect much

Fresh thoughts in minds forlorn.


And words of kindest blessing

Fill papers and empty screens;

Love-laden fingers tracing

On canvas wondrous scenes;


A stone to a probing chisel

Reveals a dragon’s wings,

And the north wind whistles

Songs in them who sing…


This is the time most meet

For doubts to be destroyed;

To bring rainbows to the streets

Of the loving city of joy.


To be for sake of being

And call the hiding souls,

Make good of what is felt

And question what is told.


May the frowns unfeeling

Grow wits to look inside,

Grow out of mindless shaming

Grow into the glory of pride.

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Out and proud student and teacher of English. Fascinated by rhymes. Willing to try other modes gradually.

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