It rained and rained
Ah, I felt so drained.
The skeletal pines in the wind rattled
Badly bruised and battled.
Lo and behold, soon, the russet shadows of the evening
Closed around me, ah so softly.
The trees raised their arms loftily
No more did the pines appear battled.
Now the leaves happily lisped and prattled.
Wreaths of milky mist rose from the meadows
Like ghostly shadows.
The sound of a song, broad and sweeping
Floated over the willows constantly weeping.
The sun riding proud
Appeared from behind a lavender –tinted cloud
Gilding the edges of a few more clouds in the crowd.
Lovely evening, lucid and peerless
Swabbed it dark face, now tearless.
Soon the sky was in a red, hot rage
Unfazed by its outrage, I had found my anchorage.
SEPT/OCT 2017 AUTHOR OF THE MONTH at Spillwords.com
An academician, essayist-novelist -poet, I have an insane passion to write about everything under the sun or the moon! Some of my books like Ballad of Bapu: [a poetic biography of Mahatma Gandhi] and Where are the lilacs? [a collection of 111 peace poems] have been internationally acclaimed. Flights from my terrace is my ebook of 58 essays on Smashwords .