There is poetry when the sun sets.
There is poetry in watching a bird fly
When that sky in all its orange nets,
Seems like a painting for the passers by.
There is magic in the cold breeze
There is magic in that grass so green
Thoughts slip in like I am at ease
Love, expression never quite this keen!
No pen, no paper, to jot down the thought
No camera to capture the moment passing by
But I know who, I know what, I sought
In that romantic moment, right below a vast sky!
1 comment:
I think I know who too :-P
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