Poems forever
By Thomas Nashe
Spring, the sweet spring, is the year’s pleasant king,
Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring,
Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing:
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!
The palm and may make country houses gay,
Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day,
And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay:
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!
The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet,
Young lovers meet, old wives a-sunning sit,
In every street these tunes our ears do greet:
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to witta-woo!
Spring, the sweet spring!
By Amna Ameer
I always wondered
Why is it
That some flowers bloom
In someone else’s spring
Why my bougainvillea
Remained dormant
Like a premeditated prayer
Almost at the altar
But always self conscious
Yet something happened
This spring
It adorned itself
Those empty branches
Laden in delicate flowers
Of pink promises
In full bloom
And I realise
All blossoms
Come with a hope
A wish that can come true
Only if you trust
The process
In due time
Every autumn
Must meet
The new season
Of spring
By Abid Agha
Sometimes you are seen in a cafe
Savouring sips of your favourite coffee, slowly
Your eyes glued
To the thick foam atop the coffee
Unaware of your surroundings.
Sometimes you are found
Relaxing on a comforting couch
In the cozy afternoons of December
Lost in the pages of your favorite novels
With a bowl of pasta alfredo cradled in your hands.
Other times, you wander alone
Through the bustling corridors of malls
Or settle into a cozy patio for a moment
Where the ambiance welcomes your presence with joy.
Your presence is a recurring roulette
In the café with your coffee
On the couch with your books
Strolling through crowded malls
Pausing in tranquil patios
Each moment witnessed by the surroundings with delight
While I, left behind, witness your absence with no sight
