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Night Talk
Sara Javed | Class VII-Red | Beaconhouse Walton Campus
It's so silent today,
The golden grandfather clock strikes twelve,
It chimes so wistfully,
Even the creature of the night rests
It is the hour of the night talk
Isn't it charming, oh so charming?
The wind blows wistfully, howling
The trees weep the lightning cracks
Unknown creatures howl for mercy
It is the hour of the night talk
You, dear reader imagine
Imagine yourself in the cozy bed sleeping,
Can you hear the books whisper passionately?
No you can't, though they narrate themselves
It is the hour of the night talk
You the light footsteps thud, thud, thud
Though you smile and close your eyes,
The fairies giggle and whisper in your ears
And then, silently kiss the peaceful child and wish it a life full of contentment
It is the hour of the night talk
Unknown creature prowl,
Guarding every house and every child from harm,
Though frightening, they are kind
And thou dearest, are sleeping when
It is the hour of the night talk
Magic is brewing silently, guarding us humans
It shimmers and covers the earth,
Your own fairy godmother little Cinderella,
I know, and you too that these mighty creatures are somewhere, somewhere
It is the hour of the night talk
Forgiven and Forgotten
Sara Javed | Class VII-Red | Beaconhouse Walton Campus
Humans are like that-filled with hatred, spite and jealousy,
Molded creatures that would neither love nor let anyone rest in peace,
They would neither forgive, nor forget in their lives or after that,
They would never care - they would never see,
Mist has clouded their eyes, a cloak of darkness bestowed upon their souls,
But I would be different-not like them.

I would forgive and forget,
Tear away that cloak; make the mist fade away,
'Tis true I have been shattered and battered,
The pieces of my soul have been sprinkled,
'Tis true that I held someone's picture,
In the utmost centre of my forlorn heart,
Your betrayal clothed my soul in a somber cloth,
Like a nightingale that sits upon the edge of eternity,
Singing songs of long forgotten merriment
But I will live on.

But I will keep walking on the tiring path of life,
I will forgive and forget.
Stinging Nettles
Sara Javed | Class VII-Red | Beaconhouse Walton Campus
I shut my eye and I smile,
As my imagination takes over my instincts,
I smile gladly as I open my eyes - a bit hesitant.

And see a large, open ground in front of me,
With flowers and grass waving merrily in the breeze
I kick of my sandals in pure delight,
And run along bare footed but glad,
The nettles sting my feet, and I give a cry,
As the stinging nettles make my feet bleed,
And the pain is too much for me to bear as I weep.

I come back to my poor senses,
As I walk upon the bed of glass,
And it pierces my feet
I scream in utmost agony and misery.
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