The Kanchenjunga

by Rupradha Mookerjee

With goals touching the sky,
And charming clouds passing by,
The hills of Kanchenjunga lie
With heads held up high!

Pure golden during the sunrise,
Pinkish, at noon, to our surprise,
Orange at the magnificent sunset,
Pompously it stands at the heaven's gate.

With hopes lofty and towering,
Seasonal bits of snow showering,
With its beauty casting a spell,
It's the glory of India, rightly to tell.

09-Dec-2010

More By : Rupradha Mookerjee

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