
Once in a year it is in the mood to sing with Sinatra ‘Half a love never appealed to me'. At other times it sits behind and hears others sing. Look, there are no leaves It is only flowers and flowers. For the sake of art Van Gogh for days ditches mind and food. Do not call it a narcissist Let its presence blow its own trumpet. Let it cry with every ounce of breath or, laugh with every inch of skin. Like a child gone crazy. When the days of glory are over it would be childish not to go into oblivion, not to be the back bencher and exist as if not existing.
PS: Tabebuia or the Trumpet tree is flowerless for most part of the year. However when it flowers for one or two months in a year, what a spectacle it is.
I have a special fascination for tabebuias. A poetic tribute from my side was long due.
lovely poem. I didnt know the name, but now that i checked i think these trees are found in abundance in bangalore. It’s all pink in the spring.
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There are also yellow and violet versions. Yes Bangalore roads and parks have plenty of them.
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Nice poetic tribute to these lovely trees.
Didn’t know their name though!
Backbenchers in the class 🙂 Some teachers don’t know their names!
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Thanks
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A lovely tribute to a stunning beauty indeed! Very enchanting poem Sir.
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Thank you so much
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This one really a nice poem on the tree.
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Thank you so much.
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This is a poem of amazing depths where I got lost in each stanza. It’s an absolute beauty!
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Thank you for your kind words
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Very nice and informative too!
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Thanks
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