Behind This
Nature, makes fly,
Little butterfly,
on the flower,
in morning hour.
The tiny bee,
one can see,
always busy,
not she lazy.
The naughty wind,
thus entwined
and pollinate;
writing fate,
of future seed...
Nature indeed,
behind this game,
in her realm.
poem by Nilakshi Das
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
