At the outskirts of the town*

At the outskirts of the town
Where the meadows and paddy fields
Meet with the sky, seemingly,

Standing there, seeing the Vast expanse
Of the beauty of a morn,
How am I reminded of
Days of summer and spring,
Which the clouds do bring, oft,
How am I left enchanted
By the breeze smelling flowers on bloom, mild and soft,
How am I left to wonder
How in thy world there works only love ,
Drenched by a shower or two,
And on leaves and grassy lands
How am I to behold
Thy never ending tranquility
Forming sparkling little spheres
Of watery balls, drops of morning's dew,

How , at the outskirts of the town
Am I to fall in love again, with  thy all encompassing love,
By nothing( ordinary,  banal things) bound.

(*Note: loosely based on a painting, as attached, done by one of the greatest painters and artist, Vincent Van Gogh, courtesy: Keith Linwood Stover, Iulia Gherghei)


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