Green pastures across the banks of flying wings,
Is where she sings the songs of sweet springs,
Blooming petals of her lips glitter in the light,
They shimmer even at night, they shimmer all night,
At day break, she dances through those timber lands,
Laughing, giggling, acting silly, while clapping hands,
Like the care-free spotted deer she sprints over the green,
Lightning strikes me, her lightning strikes me clean,
Her golden light fading rapidly, fading at rapid pace,
Gliding through those endless blues of vacant space,
Like the tern she fades away into the setting sun,
Sitting across the lake, idle minds have great fun.
©Prasad.N April 18th 2015
All rights reserved to Prasad.N
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