Sunday, 2 April 2017


Yellow clouds, pink skies
And the bridge of love in Annecy
She smiles as the time flies
Its wings crimson, soft and lacy,
Her heart, azure and wise.

Vermilion peaks, green ice
And a bowl of pure bliss in Tawang
Assimilating with moist eyes,
She remembers a song she sang,
Long ago, with the butterflies .

No comments:

Post a Comment