Of the varying Seasons,
She is the mild green early spring.
Of the depicting fine arts,
She is the beautiful painting.
Of the months in the year,
She is maargazhi in winter.
Of the variety of flowers,
She is the fragrant jasmine.
Of the colorful birds,
She is the peaceful white dove.
Of the melodious songs,
She is the tranquil lullaby.
Of the tasty fruits,
She is the juicy mangoes.
Of the flowing wind,
She is the soft soothing breeze.
For her milky bright smile,
She is the young child.
For her snowy embrace,
She is the young lady.
For her every care and love,
She is the affectionate mother.
With all, it is nice that
She made me such a poet.
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