Page 19 - Champus Chronicles Technical Magazine

SAHTYA
Poetry CLUB

ACTIVITIES

Wild The Secret

of the

Flower Machines

It was an absolutely beautiful rainy day. The It was so cold as the first droplet kissed me. My Kipling (1865-1936) was a prolific writer of short
winds were gently tickling my fragile petals. little petals looked even more beautiful and stories and poems, and in this poem he ponders
Then stopped a car near by making the wild fragile. The rain lasted for a little longer and the new technology and machinery:

even more silent. And a little girl carrying a girl was waiting eagerly to lock me in her We were taken from the ore-bed and the mine,
We were melted in the furnace and the pit—
camera came running to me from the car. An pictures. The rain stopped and I suddenly felt
We were cast and wrought and hammered to
older man followed her, he might be her father. something so suffocating as she plucked me
design,
They look so resembling. off with her tiny sharp nails to pose as her
We were cut and filed and tooled and gauged to
father started clicking our pictures.
fit.
She started clicking pictures and she loved my Some water, coal, and oil is all we ask,
natural beauty. Then tiny droplets of rain I was not at all sad. Infract I was the happiest And a thousandth of an inch to give us play:
started attacking her camera. She ran towards one. I will always be eternal in that little girl's And now, if you will set us to our task,

the car to save her little thing, so did her father smile. I loved her at first sight. And then she We will serve you four and twenty hours a day …
to save his little girl. gently kissed me and hid me in her warm hug. It
felt so natural. Maybe, this is the true love that

everyone speak about.

By Ms. P. Prasanna Lahari,

B.Tech (CSE) - 19UP1A0537

Campus Campus
CHRONICLES 18 19 CHRONICLES
Technical Magazine Technical Magazine