At the Cafe`*

At the cafe` *

Never thought you would be there,
At the cafe`, I was as usual,
With a mug , idling,
A table book kept on my lap,
Exotic things , picturesque,
I was busy, eyeing them,

Outside the drizzle coupled with the chill,
Must be running a cool blow,

I was with me,
Largely,
And that table book,

Warmth was getting gradually
Transmitted through my fingers,
Following the hand,
Coffee cup was there,

Just then, thought heard I,
A voice known,
Two people chirping,

They seemed too busy, "Hawai", " nah! Tasmania"

Oh yes, I heard that,

Two birds as if
Exchanging
Dreams,

And thought I knew them,
The owner of the voices,
One distinctively male,

Other, too feminine,

And the cafe` had the swing door,

I thought I could always go
Out,
Where the drizzle was bringing snow.

(*Note: the painting as attached, is used to decorate and beautify the idea or the theme of the poem/scribbling/prosaic poem/story .

Artist: Daniel F.Gerhartz. courtesy: Musica Pittura e Dintorni)

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