I am sitting on my terrace, next to the hammock, staring across d washed earth,
With a steaming cup of tea in my hand and thoughts for once in dearth.
The flowers are all glistening and happily they sway, enjoying the leftover drizzle,
Seems like even Gods are enjoying their work of art, playing with the bells in a distant chapel.
The whisking wind is as though, sweeping the wind chime off its feet,
Shyly and timidly it tinkles, synchronised like a heartbeat.
I cant get enough of rains, I love the magic they spread around,
Everything gets joyous, Everything gets festive, from the Skies till the Ground...
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