MY TEACHER
Teacher is a gift of God…
She is my guardian in class.
She helps me to read and write,
Play and dance, and to sing a song.
She teaches me right and wrong,
And is a guide in life.
I love my teacher very much,
And thank God for such lovely teacher…
Komal Mengi
Raghunath Bazar
DEVOTION
Oh my God! you are my devotion,
Be in my soul like a pivot emotion,
To reach you is my passion,
To your people I feel compassion,
I spread love and education,
Essence of spirituality is my motivation,
This whole world is your cultivation,
You are creater of this earth and the ocean,
You provided us with knowledge
and potion,
May all human beings have affection,
May their souls illuminate with divine connection,
May always sustain peace,bliss and devotion,
May our country be a happy and a prosperous nation.
Idealist Bharat
Roop Nagar,
Bantalab
My Fate
When I fall deeper into a dreary state,
My body needs
what I always hate;
Blood pressure climbs at a faster rate,
I seem to gravitate before its too late,
I take the pill and then salivate,
Sips of water to change my taste;
For my nerves to settle down, I wait,
Can’t help it out, its now my fate.
Antriksh
INTERNET
O My Net, You are my life,
You are my wife.
Without you, I stare at my phone,
It seems that everything is gone.
You are spread everywhere,
From Chennai to China,
Andhra to Amsterdam.
You are in my every hue,
Without you, I would have been familiar to few.
Well, F.B, Twitter & Whats App are all dependent on you.
But, there are certain limitations of you.
Just like a ship with no crew,
Anyone can make a bold use of you,
Some special enemies make your bad use.
Inturn, common people & teenagers are confused.
What is wrong, what is right,
Who shall display light of truth?
Well, its our fate.
The Police is always too late,
to nab the accused.
Well, it all depends on us,
whether you are rightly or wrongly used.
Arnav Sharma
10th – A
B.B.S.V.P, Higher Secondary School
Udhampur
alone
From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then-in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life-was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.
Vishupartap Singh
Billawant Ramban
Ramban
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