In The Garden


Nothing could hide the capricious form,
Even though, dusk was rolling on.
At first, my ears felt its presence,
Then, in no time,
I saw the bird shine in mid-air.
Steadfast wings flailing gently.
Swarthy beak long and curved.
The gliding image devised a formative dream,
Wearing a black and white robe.


In signing counts,
I heard the voice,
Pure and sweet as the air.
Calling out, in melodiousness:
‘Tee-Tee-Tian, Tee-Tee-Tian’,
Heedless and all alone.
Gleaming in memory’s lane,
Forever, my stroll in the garden will look around,
For the chance guest to reappear.



Ras Al Khaimah
7th April 2010


Geeta Chhabra


From the book: An Indian Ode To The Emirates by Geeta Chhabra.

Geeta Chhabra Comment Form
Form a link. Comment inside the box below. Your views will be published in a coming edition.