Tribute to a teacher

Her hair is tinged with grey

Like the outlines of a rainy cloud.

Deep frowns have formed on her face.

Her voice is but a drone 

Because of merciless destiny. 

It seems impossible that she was young 

And bustling with child-like humour,

And moulding our dull heads.

So patient and so nice,

So gentle & selfless ,

That she could surpass Gandhiji.

I wish I could carve statues

And immortalize kindness. 

But stone blocks serve no purpose.

So I will just preserve her image in my mind,

Until God permits me to.