POEM The herald of autumn's arrival A serene haven wherein I found Love's fragile bloom With my beloved, I yearn to be there. Where she sends these flowers is so fair. White was her favourite colour, I recall. She sends me these flowers, a delicate gift. In this season's grip, Her hand slipped, and I lost her. In her final moments, she expresses her plea, For Kans grass upon her grave, But my soil and season aren't meant for this bloom. Oh, to have hair as white as snow, To be her Kans, for her grave, No longer do I wish to remain. In this world of sorrow and endless pain There is no more longing left. In a world where hearts are often obscure RAZI TAHIR ✍️ Kashmir - India ©Razi Tahir #kansgrass #kashphool #Razitahir
