The moon alone in the sky
Looks like the sky’s only eye
Whose look graces my village –
Of peace and warmth an image.
The sky is silent and dark
Mellowed by the brightest spark
Unadorned by star or cloud-
A rare beauty spoken loud!
The green trees are now darker
With a slight touch of silver
Where dew dances to wind’s tune
On leaves – singing of the moon.
The air filled with odour sweet
From flowers in their own seat
Intoxicates my fresh mind
Made tired by city grind.
Far off beyond lonely fields
The dark hills, from city, shields
Those, of schools, tools, unaware –
Full of love and peace so rare.