WHY I LIVE IN THE WEST
I stand amid the meadows
Clasped by their golden glow
Marveling at the choice of words
From the brassy wood – pigeons.
From the long golden grass
I’ve won many a glowing kisses
I’ve risen above my western location
Which I’ve lived and tried.
This new place is making me
To think about a heaven,
Spread out in the sun.
Its massive golden chambers
Packed like a bunch of grapes.
Isn’t this why it is western?
So that I may run to these bosoms
Lying idly in the south?
Or to North, to tire its Sun
With my thirst for its glow?
Or even to East, so that I may run
All the way to the coast.
I get accustomed to wonders fast
And Is why I don’t get along
With forever building my heart
Just in my western home alone.
For marveling at the sun in the west
I’ve already done it.
Or launching my curious eyes
To the wide views of the West
Is a custom I’ve already practiced.
Thus, being in a different place
Makes me feel born again.
OUR POETRY CORNER 
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