Monsoon's panoply, a dimpled day's smile; windstrewn gulmohars, a blushing brocade, 'plop'-ing droplets, a lilting cadence; nostalgia pervading through the silver-scented puddles of a paperboat's elation; July evenings and trinkets of yesterday...
Whispering monsoon breeze Goes swish swish between the trees Makes a good recce of the place Green and proper the trees Some laden with fruits, it’s pleased Tickles the magpies hid amongst the leaves Ruffles the sparrow pecking at the seeds Waves at the clouds and the crows passing by Giggles at the trembling basil leaves The touch me nots, wiggle at the very thought The champa flowers that slowly bloom Heady the fragrance, wafts through the rooms The swift monsoon breeze, Whispers between the trees Agile in its ways, soon leaves for another place
overcast you sit **** on mango skin the juice on your chin drips on basil leaves, your hands already wet before the rain we watch the yellow mountains spring back to life verdant, almost emerald green foliage tender at the end of summer, nourished by the dead roots beneath softened soil.
The rain fell, delicate as muslin heavenly threads, coming undone From pearly gates of paradise. Weaving fluid intricacies underneath The grainy sands, grooved with drops And canopies laden with silken film Dewy, with crystal orbs suspended A diamond mosaic radiant Under the ashen gray clouds.
Crystalline drops clung Onto ends of leaf blades Forming a grand chandelier Hundreds of them hung On slender boughs And the tree stood An embellished crown Bedecked with clear dew