My Home My Village.


A rising white smoke at a distance,
A sound of a mowing cow from a distance is heard,
With twinkling sound of a bell hanging down from its neck,
Marching towards the homesteads,
A mother calling her son,
A faded reply would be heard from a distance,
The sun is setting,
Everyone is busy,
Up and down winding up their chores,
It`s the sound of the village,
A sudden feeling of peace engulfs me,
It`s yet another warm feeling,
Away from the city noise,
So serene and conducive,
Bringing brotherhood closer,
Bonded by blood and culture,
The conformity in doing things,
It`s my home,
It`s my village,
With which I`m proud of,


7 thoughts on “My Home My Village.

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