Wild flowers with gaudy pastel colours

Abloom with honeyed smiles dawning

On their sweet refulgent faces of innocence

That bask in the golden warmth

Of the caressing rose tipped fingers

Of the widely spread sun beams

They mushroom admist the weeds

Riddling the green grass with colours

They are tiny flowers nurtured by nature’s hands

Beaded with rainbow hued pearls

Sprinkled by the benevolent breeze

They crop up in the dark silent woods

And on the green lonely hillside

With colours stolen from rainbows

Or the wings of meandering butterflies

They are always smiling like happy children

Innocent and sicere , away from vices

Enduring the vagaries of the pouring rain

And the gales of the howling wind

With smiling nonchalance and indifference

They tolerate trampling feet

And bounce fack with ready grins

Teaching the lesson of tolerance and stamina

They have only colours on their satin frocks

But no nectarine elixir in flimsy reticula of veins

Or fragrance in their breath

Just as false hopes like empty shells

And people devoid of virtue in the soul…