Aditi Khandelwal

Aditi Khandelwal Comments

Koena Mokoena 30 April 2012

This is the most important poem, because it is about exposing the personal attributes, hence you should be proud of who you are...

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Harindhar Reddy 24 January 2012

With sweet poems For My Mom, Still A Stranger, The Little Girl, Accident and many others, This teen sensation stoops to conquer the poetry and the world! My words may sound pompous but truth her poetry picture perfect like Sachin's Cover Drive. She got the class, she got the style But she mass, ma ma Mass! Rated A1 + a big Treat! Read hear poetry,100% entertainment guarantee with lifetime warranty! Happy birth to her mom in the heaven! Says one Harindhar Reddy paisano and fellow poet from her country, India.

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Koena Mokoena 12 December 2011

I like this poem ' Phases Of Moon', because it reminds me of my previous & future life. Hence, you can be the famous poet across the globe like me. I have been invited to India to recite my poems wouldn't you like to attend with me? Your correspondence will be highly appreciated. Have a nice day! Mr. Koena France Mokoena Country: South Africa

1 1 Reply
Sonali Sings 29 November 2011

Aditi invited me to comment on her poem 'Thank You' but her poem after poem kept me reading and asking for more. Her innocent talent makes her write from an entirely novel perspective, very refreshing. Best wishes for a budding poetess!

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Eduardo Mazzini 23 October 2011

Your heart is really in the right place!

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POEM OF THE DAY
Mutability

We are as clouds that veil the midnight moon;
How restlessly they speed, and gleam, and quiver,
Streaking the darkness radiantly!--yet soon
Night closes round, and they are lost forever:

Or like forgotten lyres, whose dissonant strings
Give various response to each varying blast,
To whose frail frame no second motion brings
One mood or modulation like the last.

We rest.--A dream has power to poison sleep;
We rise.--One wandering thought pollutes the day;
We feel, conceive or reason, laugh or weep;
Embrace fond woe, or cast our cares away:

It is the same!--For, be it joy or sorrow,
The path of its departure still is free:
Man's yesterday may ne'er be like his morrow;
Nought may endure but Mutability.
...

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