Lazily waking to a rainy morning,
with the aroma of wet earth,
tell me,is something more refreshing,
than this juvenile mirth...
Oh, I ain't no poet,
but such ravishing beauty,
exudes such enchantment,
that I yearn to dedicate an ode to thee..
Wanting forever this slumber of sanguinity,
I wish with all my heart,
one of the early Romantics to enter my soul,
'coz I know not,even after all endeavors,
to give words to the glory i bask in.
The wet earth,the shimmering road,
the rainbows in the sky,
engulfed by the beauty I behold,
surely a sight for sour eyes..
The raindrops on mullberry,
the nested cuckoos sing,
flowers blooming their best,
darkest,yet the best shade they give..
All sorts colors and shades of green,
an artist palette on display,
I help but wonder
were all this scenic beauty set up
to kill my love for Roerich's work..
Oh my!! not even aware
when i started singing a lullaby,
this rampant love for nature,
has dampened my soul with unreasonable joy..
Showers of blessings,as some say,
sure has cast its magic amidst dismay,
'coz I see life brewing nd breathing,
as if the rain resuscitated the entirety..
Oh I wish I had wings,
know I aint talking sense,
but I crave to taste the clouds,
intangible I want to roam about...
My spirit all ecstatic,
all looming sadness gone,
reading only Wordsworth works now,
will satiate my thirst..
I shan't write more,
let me cherish each moment of my lonely rambles,
coz its a sight for sore eyes,
sight for Sore eyes like mine....
