Pangong Lake

Amidst the mountains the Pangong lake glides-

its turquoise charm the snowcapped tops reflect.

The daunting hills yet longer the sun hide

that soon peaks to splash its golden dialect.

Pebbles massage my feet in morning chill

as waters long and deep in silence roll.

The crafty wind bends the crops to its will,

and a cow moos as the hunger bells toll.

The lake snakes away to the land unknown,

mocking the boundaries defined by man.

A luminous quilt – as if with time grown-

designed and woven by the nature’s hands.

My tent flutters as I long for a walk.

Blessed is the time when gauged not by a clock.

This entry was posted in Poetry on by .

About Rahul Aithal

I am from Mumbai, India. Composing poems gives me immense pleasure. Few poetic sites I write on are -,, and, recently Avant-Garde-Writer's Haven (on Facebook). You could browse my other writes on my private blog, I am glad to have joined this site, thanks to Louis. I hope to add value and get the group going.

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