Varun Garg


As I trod after the rain,
Watch boat sailing in puddles.
With every drop as the water swirls,
Forming every unique possible pattern.

Children dancing and remoulding the mud,
Along with the exotic imprinted symbols.
Sweet sound of bagpiper and cymbals,
And mild aroma of wet soil.

As the darkness stays no more,
For the black clouds evolve to white cottons.
Back to the walk is cigar-smoking Sam Vuitton,
And accompanying the lovers are their golden whispers.

Frogs remove the polka-dotted umbrellas,
Butterflies fluttering and flaunting colourfully,
Birds cobble their beaks romantically;
Nature sighting the ‘Art of Love’.

I recall the past for; last ten years,
There exists no such great change.
Removing all barriers to the superiority range,
The nature’s endurances descend equally in everyone.

I won’t ever forget I perceive,
These treasured moments of my life.
As the nature gifts and wipes grief,
Continues the dynamic life-cycle.


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