Nature’s Bounty

The woods stretched across, black and bare, With the sounds of screeching, hushed and still. Gentle blew the cool autumn wind, Wafting the scent of blossoming blooms. Half unveiled the moon in her throne, As the fleecy clouds drifted past. Luminous whirled the glow worms round, The glamourous sentries of the night, Flashing rings of spiralling light, They illumined another ‘Deevali Night’. The solitary tramp, wounded and scorned, In life’s ignoble, battering strife, Wended his way through the forking paths, And down he walked the mazy lanes, Away from the buzz of city marts, Far from the den of beastly men, Sick of the world’s wily tricks, And weary of its perfidious deeds, To be sheltered in Nature’s sylvan abode, And enclosed in her shaded fold. Giant Oaks in deep emerald green, Hung a canopy above his crown, The tuft of grass over the ebony mud, A tight knit, woolly carpet spread. Below the verdant roof, he lay, Dead to the world and deaf to the scoffs, Oblivious of his festering sores, And numb to every distressing thought. Carolled by the flutter of quivering leaves, Caressed by the murmur of soothing breeze, Courted by the amorous stars in sky, And away from the tumult of deadening sounds, He stretched his limbs and eased his mind, Loosened his sinews and heaved a sigh. Sweet Slumber, with her balmy touch, Sat near him and played her part, Down he slid into caverns deep, Of sleep’s silent domain, slammed to pain, To dream of a life, he never lived, To sing a tune, he never hummed.