Flowers are bright

They fill us with delight,

Deep in the valley

They spring to life.

Beside rivers and

steep rocks

They suddenly

peep out.

All in a row

They dance and sway,

In the breeze and stormy day.

Flowers are the

sweetest things

God made them all

But forgot to put a soul

in them.

Flowers are my


They are my joy.

Flowers have roots

In earth and manure

Butterflies, bees pay visit everyday

Transferring pollen grains in a special way.

Flowers are the symbol

Of love, beauty and


— Sarah Maharjan, Class VI, St Mary’s School, Jawalakhel


Oh! Tree

You are nature’s work

You don’t move or talk

But still you do your duty.

You give travellers shade

And from your trunk

We make beds

You make the forest green.

You keep the surroundings clean

Wherever you are seen

But still some humans cut you off

And sell you all over the place.

— Asim Upadhyaya, Class VIII, Brihaspati Vidyasadan

My nation:

When a sapling turns into tree

And the flowers spring out

Close by the garden I live to see

Where my heart and eyes sprout.

Heavenly it looks

Sweet is the affection

Happy bees buzz around

Thank God, this is my dear nation.

— Ashmita Adhikari, Class X, VS Niketan School