Earthquake

Young heart was the king,
Puerile was the spring
The bees were sucking to nature's luring.
But suddenly
The dusk came too early
Thundering clouds raced to the field
Played with the sun and wind
White to black and a fight
Then red!
The young ones wept and we slept.
The dawn was clear
There were no tears
It was luncheon
My stomach shook the whole earth
A noise was heard on the white top
The earth hurt in pain
A new earth was born
In holy land of ours.

poem by Sanjay Mehta
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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