The prying air blew from yonder,
Ensconcing me with humid spray;
From chill – snugging me asunder,
I clothed, as I reached the Lake Esse.
Ripples made by hasty dragonflies,
Making stir, reach the brims of shores;
Only spectators – spying frogs’ eyes,
Record signal scenes for folklores.
Trickling, dripping, slithering on stones,
Water torrents cut my wee repose;
Birds’ chirping – in a gamut of tones,
Remind me of my diurnal pose.
I trod along a worn, untrodden pier,
Still water let me see the riverbed,
Seeing through – I saw ME – clear,
Worlds apart from me who’s bred.
This is extraordinary!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much.
LikeLike
What an Idea.Jeasmin.Go ahead please.
You have excemplarary vocabulary .
Keep moving.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much Wanasinghe sir for your encouraging words. It means a lot to me.
LikeLike
Your blog is amazing π
LikeLike
Thank you so much for your appreciation. π
LikeLike