I saw a creeper slowly rising up, satisfied with the place, <br />Surrounded by great and proud large trees, in a garden of grace. <br />From the foot of a tower, having white fragrant flowers, <br />The lovely high tower saved her from the showers, <br />From the frightening thunders of a black dense cloud. <br />And the great large trees, with their grandeur and proud, <br />Were laughing on the creeper so weak and soft, <br />They were thinking, heat strokes will burn her craft. <br />The humble, weak and feeble creeper, a victim of visitors' oversight, <br />Was never found resting, sleeping, she went on creeping, <br />She went on, went on, slow but sure, not crying or weeping, <br />And soon came the day, she was dancing on the top of the tower, <br />Spreading and dispersing white flowers round the tower. <br />And God was smiling on the proud of big names now drowned in shame, <br />Still humble was she, at all not affected by name and fame.<br /><br />Akhtar Jawad<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-creeper-amongst-large-trees/
