A stroll across the terrace,
In that slow motion heroine feel
I looked up at the magnificent sky.
The vast space so meticulous
Embedded with a rotund lamp of night,
And teeny-tiny torches lit,
Something gently sundered within.
The zephyr swaying my hair,
My blue scarf wavering behind,
And the redolenece from no particular source,
I breathed in the scent of nostalgia.
Sneezing away to glory
I let it pass…
The wind still caressing my hair
Better than my old lover,
I smiled at a thought of a lover.
An old song tarrying in the air,
I let a small giggle mix with it
Adding a little swril with my frilly skirt…
Far away, a tree whispered,
I couldn’t get far to that sight,
But I knew in that shady light,
It fell in love with that lamp of night.
How long will the tree live?
A thought to it I give.
And so benign the answer is wispered:
Till love is claimed no figure…