wind of summer
too vagabond
drunk
touching the melancholy afternoon
of the last pale season

flowing over the
deep yellow barren field
echoing the last mystic sound
though yet romantic
spring
the purples are deep
divine

butterflies are flying around
a few birds playing
on the ground
suddenly singing
uttering love

yellow
the golden yellow floating
in the eyes  
over hued
saturated

dropping on the ignored
dry
wither leaves
as the rain drops that has made
a blue
day dream

crossing over the mind  
a jingle
leap singing
classic
the very lost spring
scrolling into
soul

even in the lonely dark night
rolling up
the sound
as the rolling stone
of the sounding sea

@Musfiq us shaleheen

Spring is going to back
Silently dropping  the purple petals  
Bored noon,  
The melancholy flute's of Shepherd
Seeking the missing spring

Roll up,
Roll around the idle noon
Random impulsive air
Bunch of dark clouds at the sky
Pensive
Seem illusion of that known
Pied crested Cuckoo

Beyond the horizon,  
The eyes looking for
Sounds (Tip Tip) of the sudden drops of rain,
On the leaves of Quail,
Washing
Differentiation of mind

On the leaves of Arum,
Ever Keeps as the containers
Integrating
Concentrating 
Compiling of soul 

Weird one wrapped in mystery
Mind
Life
Seasons

Coming up the lyrics of rain
Fusion with thy mystic music
Afternoon has grown heavier  
How my mind moves!

Chased away birds returning home
The heart is rapidly expanded
Rain continues to move around
Nature demands a new ground

Looping, hearing of the same song
Shadows filling with the feelings
Perhaps this change of thy
Bound to sketch
A new face of impression

Away from the white Stork feathers
Often seemed to be gentle breeze
On Kans grasses
Superficial white clouds
Small dinghies on the river
To navigate the life

Far away on the bridge
The Silent movement of the Brahminy kite
Southern breeze blew
Tilting the tall grasses toward the North
Leak of the light fell into the Kans,
Into the Soft green grasses

Sunlit mingled with light fog
Seek heavenly feeling
Without the knowledge
The lips Stir of

Walking beside the river
Barefooted
In the air Kestrel's mystic music
The river running with full of chime

What are the forms of you!
Thee bind me with deception!
What a Strange tune!
What those thirsty words!

So that I draw your image
Moving away from the shadows
Soft light blended with the estuary
Away,
Little by little,
To see your face
Like the rig of Ship

Behind the path
A magical dream
Seems like a White Shirt  
That I had left in the Kans grasses