Hi Friends,

Even as I launch this today ( my 80th Birthday ), I realize that there is yet so much to say and do.

There is just no time to look back, no time to wonder,"Will anyone read these pages?"

With regards,
Hemen Parekh
27 June 2013

Friday, 26 April 1985

The Song of Cuckoo




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And suddenly there is spring ,
So you tell me :
But how can I believe ,
When the winter is
Unthawed
And the tall trees
Are still dark
With the shadow of
This recurring death ;

The song of Cuckoo
Is no more real
Then the long lost memories
Of some yesteryears .

And this is our Shangrila ,
So you tell me ;
How too soon to believe ,
When the wind is still warm
Though the journey thru
The desert

Is over .

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