Thunder storm came
played in the fields
with lightning it drew
its anger and its burst
In the atmosphere of nightmare
stood a plant in a frame
a sprout to blossom
a scarlet stud sound asleep
In storm of horrendous
as if no surrender
with the little bud inside
and a bowed head
battled with the wind
with arms around the naive

Morning windows open
chirping birds in bliss
as youthful it seem
In corner with walls
layed tired the plant
in between the green
as peace in the breeze
with opening eyes
a drop in forehead
bloomed rosy.