Poetry from Mahbub

Author Mahbub, South Asian man with brown hair and reading glasses, wearing a white collared shirt.

My Childhood Butterflies

The colors of the butterflies

Still now after many years I can see on my fingers

The loving butterflies, the sweet butterflies

Still now flying on the eyes in the morning or afternoon

Every now and then

The garden smiles on 

My childhood attention glows with such lights

Tinged in the life’s color

Bleed with the experiences in every ups and downs

But the sweetness of the glow

Never allows ringing the bell ‘Out’.

Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh


The leaves of the lemon tree fall down

It’s just before the winter though not encircled with mist

Travelling on the wheel of time

Makes them leave and a chance for the new

The yellow dry leaves scattered on the ground

The green new beams on the morning sun

One by one it covers the braches

It mixes with the blue to the sky

What a matching color of the earthly bound

The yellow bids adieu

And the green starts

Even thousands of years later.

Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *