Monday, February 18, 2008


(This poem is about a place called KASAULI in Himachal. Went there for a trip and fell in love :). The picture is of the church mentioned in the lines)

The old grey church
Steals all my words.
Morning wind composes
A new song.
Come hold my hand
Don't whisper a thing.
As the red brick road
Sings along.


  1. Hello Nick, I truly love this poem! I could hear the wind singing and the unforced rhyme at the end just wraps it up so nicely. I like your blog and have added you in my links, thanks for stopping by and your kind comments. Now I am going to enjoy my day off, bye.


  2. Just lovely, and this photograph
    the perfect partner.