I have a book in my hand

But dont seem to comprehend.

So, I look out of window

And discover grass and meadow.

They are not supposed to be here

It is summer, how they dare.

They grow so profusely

Standing against all odds

Have they forgotten

The law of Lords.

Summer is harsh

There must be no marsh

Greenery would wilt

Rivers would silt.

Leaving everything high and dry

Making life scream and cry.

But from my corner window

I do see grass and meadow.

I rub my eyes

And look with a sigh.

To see if its a mirage

Or am I seeing something large.

Is it a poster?

To announce another roaster.

Or is it my imagination gone wild

Giving me Hallucinations ever so mild.

Even if it is not real

Let it persist.

It gives me some comfort

So, I insist.

Life is dull and so is season

Dry and lull without a reason.

Sometimes I wish to die

Then with a jerk

I call it a lie.

I am a fighter

I will fight till end.

Till Heavens support

And enemies bend.

He will favour me

That I know.

Its only a matter of time

Come hail or snow.

Till then, I will look

Out of  my window.

And be happy to see

The grass and meadow.

Standing tall

Without any stall

Face difficulties with smile

Make problems run away mile

It is easy to preach

and tough to follow.

But I would not teach

And remain hollow.

It is my life

And I will enjoy

Be content

And satisfied.