Monday, 2 June 2014


For every one of my family members who made last week memorable!


Begone times; like feathers of a red peacock,
Covetingly beautiful - yet elusive!

Boulevard through which we walked,
Under the shade of Gulmohar trees,
The path where fallen flowers decay,
Where we met each other during a walk,
Basked under the glory of spring.

Red is the color of love,
Red are the flowers of the Gulmohar,
Take a breathe of all the red,
Moments of red; which knit the path,
Sincere smell of red; which makes us smile.

Bereaved are flowers when they die,
Seemingly distant but agonizingly close,
One day all red will wither away,
Seasons change - we may deject,
But nature will continue the play.

I look again at the flowers,
Faithful forever would be my being,
Towards nature - pots of colors
she overturned onto my colorless life,
Made us meet, showed us heart,
Where we hid, till eternity came by!


Gulmohar (Delonix regia) is a species of flowering plant seen in many tropical parts of the world. The word Gulmohar is derived essentially from Persian, with 'Gul' meaning 'Flower' and 'Mohr' meaning 'Peacock'. For more on the plant, check : Delonix regia


  1. I dont know hot to analyze poetry..I only know how to enjoy it ..
    Love your poems :-)

    1. Analyzing and loving don't go well with each other, its always good to love. Thanks! Smiles! :)

    2. I second the motion!
      Wonderful piece! Analysis is for engineers art is for the senses... even though it does make us think :-)

  2. I have a bracelet made from this tree..hand crafted by a street artist who told me a tale of the tree.
    So, glad I came over to read your poem..lovely writing..

  3. red is my color but i will share it. nice analysis

  4. Very lovely.........I can picture that walk among all the reds, with your loved ones......