improvisation is the heart of my craft
a gift given before I was born

I do not know where words will go
but its my wand in a world of negation

Living a niche, an unusual stream,
I meet with lovers, singing our songs.

Now that winter is over,
For months Jack Frost will be gone:        
Spring is now awakening,
Green is on the plants and lawn.

Yellow daffodils landscape,
The towns and the countryside:
Forsythia blossoming
Is a sight that's hard to hide.    

The cold days will get fewer,
And the warm days will get more:
The apple trees will blossom,
Just like years they have before.

There's no way I want to freeze,
Warm months I treasure the most:
Give me days when the sun shines,
So in the sun I can toast.

Sometimes we don't like missing someone.
The thing is we don't want them being our memory. But still, we miss them somewhere.

Only the eyes can heal the mind
Allowing the clouds to rain.
Feels good to enjoy the rain…
Along with the stinging pain…
When will the rain recede?
that the pain can ease…!!
Anyway, thanks to you…
For the pain and the rain…
And hopefully, for the clearer me…!!

"Miss you"— not just a phrase
But a flood of emotions
Felt by an aching mind
That deeply misses
Your very presence…
Let alone you understand it
It is a hard fact and the very truth..!!

Sharing stares is good, but letting them know that I love to, is unbelievably good.

A feeling before you are aware of getting hurt, hits hard.