I sit under a pipal Tree.
As the wind rustles its symphony.
The applause gently sways down,
Crisp fulfilled, as new as your youth in bloom,
It covers me, I love its tender kiss of times,
They enliven the folds on the bed of my mind.
And when I twist and turn in serene ecstasy,
They gently murmur me your lullaby.
Hardik Vaidya's Other Poems
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