Wednesday, September 7, 2016

The window

Every day , specially at dusk
She would come there, unasked,
Only to look at the wide spectacle
Of green slopes of hills as upon them fell
The rays of setting sun , making them wonderous
Every day, there she would come, to spend few hours,
Looking at those trees and listening to murmur
Perhaps of the flowing restless river,

She would with her senses devour
The beauty of hills and overwhelming Nature
And then when the sun would go hiding behind those hills
She would stand there still
And hear the songs of crickets too,
She would catch the evening's hue,

And after that when the night fell
And the moon would cast its silvery spell
She would let the beams come and caress her
Her face, her dreamy eyes, her limbs , her hair,

The window served as her companion true
As she would come there to have a view
Of the world around her, and also the world within
The window gave her always the perfect setting.

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