I am a writer of the poems that can touch the heart of the people
Beneath the sun, in fields of green, My heart leaps free, where dreams convene. A land of stories, whispered on the breeze,
By Sunil Kushwaha5 months ago in Poets
Backpack heavy, notebooks full, Sleepy eyes but spirit sprightly, Schoolroom hum, a teacher's lull, But inside, dreams burn fiercely!
Golden hair like spun moonlight, Breathing soft, the day takes flight. Whispered stories, dreams unfold, In my arms, a world of gold.
Your smile, a sunrise on my face, Chases shadows, fills with grace. Eyes like pools of summer sky, Reflecting dreams that never die.
Tiny fingers grip my hand, Eyes that shine, a wonderland. Sleepy sighs and milk-stained chin, My giant heart, held safe within.
Beneath a tattered sky, not sun nor snow, My heart's a beacon, a soldier's vow. No regal birth, no gilded name, My love for thee, a whispered flame.