Once it blooms
folds the mental glooms,
nothing in sight
except its bloom bright!

The flower red
on past its petals fed,
Each petal has rosy lips
as if its fragrance speaks.

It speaks the stories old
along with moments gold,
the story of two-unbold
roses never get a chance to unfold.

Each of its nector
remains inside,
in a frozen state
it saturates.

Let's the roses bloomed again,
to exchange the nector in them!
The nector will never be spoiled
it's found fresh in ages uncoiled.


Dr. Mukund S. Bhandari