‘The Toil’ An Heart Touching Poem

The orange spills upon the eastward canvas

And a pale white shades the night’s mantle

The wind’s worn of a cold glide

And shudders anew on the gold pastel

The trees, still bowed in the night-full stupor

Sway with the gentle, caressing breeze

The mighty orb gains the reign

And hither shall the dark’s rule cease

The thin haze in the air, lowly drifting

Dissolves and the virgin dew trickle shy

Downwards, into deeper folds

Up the welkin’s a crystal blue ball

Washed anew in the mighty glory

And in its bosom, few tufts of fluff

Promise the day thin shades ahead

And as the day lives on, vivified and stark now

Life shrugs off many a faces

And toils yet again for the thread of breaths

*Salman Altaf*

Published originally in Us magazine, The News on May 7, 2010

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