Sunday, March 17, 2013

A perfect cloudy breezy noon...

The cloudy breezy noon
Leaves and twigs broomed
From one field or street to another
There flew happily the white feather...
Same sights and vision occured
Earlier to me and you then concurred
It was all because of love...
May be your that conjecture
Pasted somewhere like a picture
Hold true or it may not be the truth
but abject falsehood...
The cloudy breezy noon
Trees swinging
Scraps of papers and plastic broomed
From one street to another alley
Timeless grace, tempting folly
Your fingers sketching numbers
On the back of my dried timber
Hidden variable theory expressed...
The damsel walked my window in a white dress
Black clouds making her prominent
A perspective of pure poetry held that image...
A little love sprinkled with sad tune
Ah! A perfect cloudy breezy noon...

No comments:

Post a Comment

The State Funeral

At least they have given her The State Funeral With tongue cut,  She could not have spoken for  The rare award,  The police have done the th...