................To The Creator...................

( Written for Vinay Bhaiya )

The yellowish tinge of the rising sun,

Hiding ‘tween hills, as it begins its run,

But neither this, nor a hundred roses,

Or gentle prophecy of the Muses,

Do I find as pleasing, as voice of yours,

Which unlike the sun, can open all doors;

A glimpse of yours, lets me not stray,

And sight does drive, sorrows away.

As gems are priced, no gem you are,

Nor roses too, they go not far,

‘ A legend ‘ some say, some opine,

Your godly face, they see to shine.

I fail, yet try, to be like you,

Its tough you are, as pure as dew;

Words too, they fail, to speak of you,

I promise though, to have all through,

The flame of love, for you which burns,

For all my life, by all the turns.