Meetings of the two, floating clouds filled with beautiful hues,
An inexpressible fear of bursting
What if someone said those three little words before I drew,
To the perennial world painted as skies in her favourite blues?
...
So here, our moon lights up in the night sky,
So here, our dreams arise in our beholding eyes,
And ears are willing to hear tales of our years,
Where we dreamt and lived and loved our dears.
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A refreshing winter evening,
With the sunset, on its crest.
The church with its evening prayers.
Relatively, the mass gathering.
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Reading about the Oak trees, mountains, flowing essence of waterfalls, the scent of wet ferns, and the heart shaped leaves of Peepul.
Took my breath away.
And when I witnessed,
I was deeply inspired.
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Flowers all over the blue sky
Blooming in the fields of misty clouds
Painted by the hues of all you's and eyes full of stars.
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All our Christmas wishes are heard,
Down across the blue oceans and to the hills all above.
Shells loving pearls sat near the seashore;
Holding sapphire rings behind
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Breezes of evergreen mountains carried words of eyes afar,
Dearly Sparrows in my tea garden were the first one to be seen in wars.
The pot half empty with water was their battlefield,
Who would first splash and sprinkle was the question on repeat.
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Oldest ever wines enriches with time
Fresh grapes in vineyards of my country carries your breaths in binding airs of mystery,
I will save them, even if someday our melodies of spring ends after counting stars.
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The year is about to end
I'm lying on the wet grass
A peacock comes smiling towards me to show his joyful dance,
And I'm telling him, " she too would love you at once, if she saw you dancing so well with your charms".
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The shadows of the rainbow painted on your frames,
The gentle breeze of winter's art passing by your face;
Painting your tresses to swing with the tunes of winter's song
For the awaited spring and for the one
...