Dedicated to my birthplace Queen of Hills, Darjeeling.
I woke up
to the melody of
pouring rain
and it was then
I realize,
the first chill
of winter
has sneaked in.
It was then
from miles away
I remember you
Oh dear!
And moments
spent in your lap,
playing, fighting,
from class bunking
walking, hands clasped
and with it
that treachery
then...
gambling, drinking,
burning lungs
with sticks.
And gifts
that you gave
because of which
I can now teach.
Oh dear!
My queen of hills.
Wangdi Gyalpo
20th September 06.
Poetry by Wangdi Gyalpo
Read 590 times
Written on 2006-11-16 at 02:57
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
Oh Dear!
I woke up
to the melody of
pouring rain
and it was then
I realize,
the first chill
of winter
has sneaked in.
It was then
from miles away
I remember you
Oh dear!
And moments
spent in your lap,
playing, fighting,
from class bunking
walking, hands clasped
and with it
that treachery
then...
gambling, drinking,
burning lungs
with sticks.
And gifts
that you gave
because of which
I can now teach.
Oh dear!
My queen of hills.
Wangdi Gyalpo
20th September 06.
Poetry by Wangdi Gyalpo
Read 590 times
Written on 2006-11-16 at 02:57
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
Individuality |
Kathy Lockhart |
Texts |
by Wangdi Gyalpo Latest textsA DreamSparkle The Last Ride A Dream... But, I'm Happy |
Increase font
Decrease