Under the umbrella red,*

Under the umbrella red,

Just after the squall and the spell
Of rains , we would, love, meet,

The vacant emptied mind, the empty street,
Will then us, (with murmuring leaves
Of drenched, wet, trees,) greet,

And you will perhaps sing a song,
The walk will be a bit prolonged,

I will try to match your footsteps,quite,
as we will walk towards the Gate, the Golden one, Bright,

You will then, perhaps, flash a Smile, coyed,
I will think of a piano play, Andrew Lloyd,
And after rains, drizzling dreams we will kiss,
You, me, the emptied mind and our bliss,

Someone will then us with a love song do compare,
From a flick perhaps, so love laden, O Dear!

(*Note : upon a painting loosely based, as attached, taken by me , for poesy.)