Abbottabad – A Poem

Abbottabad city was founed by British Major James Abbott in January 1853. The name of the city Abbottabad is a compound contain two words, Abbott and Abad. Abad means a place of living. Major Abbott wrote a poem before he went back to Britain, in which signifies his fondness for the town and his sadness at the time he left it. I didn’t new about it before; let see how many other stand beside me, share your thoughts.

I remember the day when I first came here
And smelt the sweet Abbottabad air

The trees and ground covered with snow
Gave us indeed a brilliant show

To me the place seemed like a dream
And far ran a lonesome stream

The wind hissed as if welcoming us
The pine swayed creating a lot of fuss

And the tiny cuckoo sang it away
A song very melodious and gay

I adored the place from the first sight
And was happy that my coming here was right

And eight good years here passed very soon
And we leave you perhaps on a sunny noon

Oh Abbottabad we are leaving you now
To your natural beauty do I bow

Perhaps your winds sound will never reach my ear
My gift for you is a few sad tears

I bid you farewell with a heavy heart
Never from my mind will your memories thwart