Night.

Slow breeze hits my ear,
Carrying echoes from far and near,
Setting sun welcomes the moon,
Birds head for home and its dark too soon.

Watching the valley in the dim moonlight,
Full of hope as a Cygnet's first flight,
Wild flowers bloom in darkness,
Flowing water at war with silence.

Nature is best when there's no sun,
God, you are a poet and the night is your poem.

Patience

Every rose has its thorn....
every night has its dawn....
Son, wait for the day said God....
But the kid jumped the moment and quick he was gone

Sharaab

शराब छूट गयी लेकीन मैखाना ना छूटा
शरबत का ही सहीं लेकिन पैमाना ना छूटा

Great