(N.N.Pal)
Sweet buds bloom in the Morn ,
Lovely petals not to torn .
What a beauty on the bough ,
Look and look it, enjoy now.
Let them sway in the breeze ,
Such a smile not to cease.
Long will it come to view ?
'Time's Fool', oh ! nothing new.
Beauty fleeting, alas ! the fame ,
Leads to grave and fade the name.
Yet all things are assigned to ,
Own part that all have to do .
Nothing is useless on the Earth ,
Never a waste is any birth .
On 'His' feet if takes one rest ,
Name and worth must be best .
Word Notes :
Morn - Morning,
Time's Fool - Everything in this world including human being proves to be fool in the hand of time as the sickle of time destroys everything in the long run / ultimately.
His - God.
