Monsoon magic: Green world
Will you come and walk with me,
to where the earth is newly born?
To where green grass grows tenderly,
under a rain decked yawning dawn.
Where luscious leaves go sailing,
upon a whimsy, droplit breeze;
Where whistling winds go wailing,
within the waiting, watching trees.
Where the scent of land is fresh sweet,
like babies' breath and new turned earth;
Where rain drops fall to greet the wheat,
to celebrate the crops' new birth.
Where velvet grass is drenched with dew;
The world is green in every hue.
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