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)
