The sudden spell of January rain took the dwellers in
the East by surprise.Yes, to many, it has a sorcerer's
touch,conjuring
passion (among lovers),
conviviality(among friends) and
jocularity amidst the little ones.I, sat alone with the rains
splashing my face...sat with my bunch of pensive days.
The misty spray fails to bring back joie de vivre. They seem
to have died on an autumn night. The drops now sting my naked
arms and face.
So,sitting alone with the misty spray splashing my face....I
pray for the clouds to drift to those shingly shores. For
there dwells a soul, some kilometres away from the sea, who still
rejoices the descending silver threads.
rejoices the descending silver threads.
4 comments:
clap....clap...clap
its beautifful...but I noe how much you love the rain...mona
...much like those same summer rains
....rising in a mist from the heated pavement
her spirit....
not quite washed away by the rains
...began
the slow,
....languid process of filling her again
Something more to my liking would be :
How I wish,
just Like
when the first rain happens
one small rain drop
stands still on my eye lids
And
while relishing the ambience
when I do open my eyes slowly
I find you in my arms !!
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