A million fresh drops,
dancing on my face,
On tune of a singer’s pop,
they hurled on my grace.
Life seeming listless,
and many insolent overcomes,
Tipping on me to bless,
my future that makes one.
A scene quite romantic,
loving the nature’s booms,
The thrift making dogmatic,
and little flowers give loom.
Those fresh drops I never knew,
were poured down from sky,
Marking presence in form of dew,
they knowingly passed by.
Showering in my garden,
These drops made me wet,
For blushing they asked pardon,
And for the trillions of them I bet.
No comments:
Post a Comment