Poem

Indian Cork tree
Calling is their fragrance that
whispers in the hearts with
its matchless magesty…
Land is perfumed with its scent,
Lulling themselves in the lap
Of mother land like a garland
Of mesmerising lass!
I found myself on cloud nine
When I discovered them to be mine😘
My brimming joys can scent them
Each day relishing their company
It’s the tree of our temple of knowledge!
Happy sharing it with YOU all!