GEETASHREE
09-11-2010, 12:54 PM
The leaves are still wet with the tears of a bygone rain
The sky is still morose with the reminisce of a past pour
The clouds still hang around like the echo of a desperate wail
The birds have still not picked up the thread of the song last chirped
The wind bemoans the morsel of a grain blown away to a faraway land
The meadows have” saronged” a sequined sheet of pearly dew drops around
The bathed alleys, gullies, the pathways shine in the pale moonshine
A pall of mist rises as though a phoenix from a heap of” grime”
The croons of the night sounds waft softly encircling the surround
Recedes a drenched night on tiptoe to welcome the grey daylight
A calm before the storm prevails a lull before the chime
And I have not yet stitched the drape over a tale long heard unwind
In bemused silence to be buried in the weeping sands of time
It had again rained pell mell throughout the previous night…………
The sky is still morose with the reminisce of a past pour
The clouds still hang around like the echo of a desperate wail
The birds have still not picked up the thread of the song last chirped
The wind bemoans the morsel of a grain blown away to a faraway land
The meadows have” saronged” a sequined sheet of pearly dew drops around
The bathed alleys, gullies, the pathways shine in the pale moonshine
A pall of mist rises as though a phoenix from a heap of” grime”
The croons of the night sounds waft softly encircling the surround
Recedes a drenched night on tiptoe to welcome the grey daylight
A calm before the storm prevails a lull before the chime
And I have not yet stitched the drape over a tale long heard unwind
In bemused silence to be buried in the weeping sands of time
It had again rained pell mell throughout the previous night…………