When the Rocket Goes

I am a tree.           
I have flowers.

I have leaves.
I have fruits.

Cuckoo hides under the leaves.
And, sings the summer song.
Bee flies on my yellow flowers,
And, drinks the sweet honey.


When the cool breeze passes ,
I am glad.
When the wind blows,
I will bend.
When the rocket goes,
I turn black.
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Poem:Yash Jain.8 years
9-5-10
Painting: Krishna Vamsi,12years
From Writing Work Shop @  Greeshma Prabhava
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Prabhava,
Books and Beyond !