The crimson flowers dot the trees,
Swaying and blowing in the breeze.
Fiery and scarlet in the summer air,
At these pretty flowers, I stare.
The petals appear like brilliant flames,
Dancing in the air like graceful dames.
The forest is on fire it seems,
When through them the sun streams.
These gulmohars form a red carpet,
Royally on every house’s parapet.
In summers, they all blossom,
The red blanket appears awesome.