Thursday, March 21, 2013

A land of my dreams


I know a place, tucked away in the woods somewhere,
nestled between the high mountains, hidden behind the cascading falls.

A place where the hills lie in silent reverie,
and the land is ruled by a thousand faeries.

A place where eternal silence rests on the high crests,
where the brood of the ringed dove still rests.

A place where sunlight barely kisses the forest floor,
the floor, covered with leaves, which were shed long ago.

A place where the moon's rays dance on the limpid pools,
and the nymphs of the forest write their own rules.

A place shrouded in eerie silence,
where, there still lingers the song of the winged siren.

Where mist hangs loose on the mountain peaks,
and the caress of the clouds I can still feel on my cheeks.

Where the village lass bathes in streams crystal clear,
and the purple flower still adorns her long tresses, which are very dear.
 
Where the dales are covered with a carpet of green,
and the dew-covered earth sings a song serene.

The Warden of the High Elms will allow us in such a magical realm,
where the silvery brook winds itself in the deep glens.

In such a land I will be going,
before the elms stops growing,
and the winds stops flowing.



© 2013 Abhijit Pandit