Found her, once, by the side
Of the cottage, at the hills,
Where we stayed, one December,
With wonders and joys as we got filled,
The morn had then just woken soft
Out side, the valley of green
Also looked so heartwarming,
And there, by the cottage, found i,
How she with happiness of hers bloomed,
The kid , found I farther, haply going
a few paces ahead, me surpassing,
He had discovered there how, a swing,
Tied to two big Trees, Sturdy looking,
where the road laid, only with dreams,
The smell of roses, dahlias, orchids,
Filled how , with Sheer Poesy, the morn's seed,
As we in us, the birth of flowers found,
The sun , broke the night, over the hills and the mounds,
Such a lovely waking it was for us,
As we went, searching for flowers ,
And birds, varied, colored,soft, so feathered,
How we , once, in the solitude of the hills discovered.
(*Note: the photograph of the flower as attached was taken , actually by me, while staying at a hill resort, 'The Sylvan Stay")
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