White We have flowers, we have rain, We have blessings, we have pain, We have rare evening views, We all await night's muse, We sip tea and morning calls, We get busy with Sun's hauls, We love the window and the wind, Crystals and chimes that we pinned, We love the yellow rays in spews, As much as we love the blues, We hear the song of the birds, And the little neighbor's words, It is still, yet rushed... A quiet day in August. ©Anagha Ukaskar

Anagha Ukaskar

White On the rare nights I'm up Watching you as I try to I stare til I see your land Your shape, your scars, deep I don't want your light Because I'm used to your glow I yearn your unknown somethings More than what you show You are near, but alone You are here, but far You are written in poems, But you are never a star Your magic in movies, Your music, I like to croon On the rare nights I'm up Confessing love to you, my moon! ©Anagha Ukaskar

Anagha Ukaskar

Ode to Parents In love's tapestry, they stand so tall, Parents, steadfast, guiding through life's sprawl. Their threads of care, a vibrant, woven hue, Dreams take flight, as hearts ignite anew. With selfless sacrifice, they shape our way, Unheralded devotion, every night and day. Sleepless nights and lullabies so sweet, Their love, a nurturing embrace, a gentle beat. Wisdom's beacon, guiding through maze's deceit, Knowledge and grace bestowed, a lesson complete. Resilience, courage, in us they sow, A fire ignited, helping our spirits grow. Unwavering support, an unwavering hand, Bolsters our resolve, makes us strong, helps us stand. In triumph and defeat, they cheer us through, Belief unwavering, our guiding clue. Hearts brimming with gratitude, we cannot deny, The gift of their love, a treasure to apply. May our lives reflect the depth of their embrace, As we honor their sacrifice with love and grace. ©Prince Martin

Prince Martin

White We have flowers, we have rain, We have blessings, we have pain, We have rare evening views, We all await night's muse, We sip tea and morning calls, We get busy with Sun's hauls, We love the window and the wind, Crystals and chimes that we pinned, We love the yellow rays in spews, As much as we love the blues, We hear the song of the birds, And the little neighbor's words, It is still, yet rushed... A quiet day in August. ©Anagha Ukaskar

Anagha Ukaskar

White On the rare nights I'm up Watching you as I try to I stare til I see your land Your shape, your scars, deep I don't want your light Because I'm used to your glow I yearn your unknown somethings More than what you show You are near, but alone You are here, but far You are written in poems, But you are never a star Your magic in movies, Your music, I like to croon On the rare nights I'm up Confessing love to you, my moon! ©Anagha Ukaskar

Anagha Ukaskar

Ode to Parents In love's tapestry, they stand so tall, Parents, steadfast, guiding through life's sprawl. Their threads of care, a vibrant, woven hue, Dreams take flight, as hearts ignite anew. With selfless sacrifice, they shape our way, Unheralded devotion, every night and day. Sleepless nights and lullabies so sweet, Their love, a nurturing embrace, a gentle beat. Wisdom's beacon, guiding through maze's deceit, Knowledge and grace bestowed, a lesson complete. Resilience, courage, in us they sow, A fire ignited, helping our spirits grow. Unwavering support, an unwavering hand, Bolsters our resolve, makes us strong, helps us stand. In triumph and defeat, they cheer us through, Belief unwavering, our guiding clue. Hearts brimming with gratitude, we cannot deny, The gift of their love, a treasure to apply. May our lives reflect the depth of their embrace, As we honor their sacrifice with love and grace. ©Prince Martin

Prince Martin