If you cut a tree; you cut your own mother - Poems on Environment , Wildlife

THE NIGHT WAS STILL ALIVE

The butter was still fresh; with adorable crusts of
cream oozing poignantly from its molten persona,

The rose was still blossoming; with its ravishing
redolence reinvigorating everything around in dull
atmosphere,

The stream was still gushing at electric speeds; with
its gurgling waters diffusing into spell binding froth
after clashing against the chain of ecstatic rocks,

The peacock was still dancing; with its feathers
spread wildly wide to a completely full and exotically
animated plumage,

The grass blades were still awake; with glistening dew
drops now enigmatically caressing their intricate
visage,

The stars still twinkled in the sky; with the
magnificent white beams of light casting a majestic
spell on the body of pathetically scorched earth,

The leaves still vibrantly rustled with the wind;
inscrutably whispering their nostalgic tales of day;
their stupendously enamoring anecdotes of the past,

The lion still roared euphorically; puncturing the
sedate ambience with an uncanny thrill that was never
experienced before,

The nightingale still sang its melodious rhymes;
captivating every tangible and intangible entity with
the fascinating melody in its sound,

The clouds still collided in the sky; pelting droplets
of rejuvenating rain in tumultuous fury,

The ducks still floated in the serene pond; fomenting
blissful ripples to spread infectiously around;
profoundly enlightening the night with their flurry of
boisterous quacks,

The chameleon still fluttered its ominous tail;
tantalizingly changing color; splendidly blending with
the surrounding it went,

The mammoth stacks of green chili were still flaming;
violently embodying the area around with a distinctly
piquant odor; a scent that could bring life into the
dead,

The Moon still shone a tenacious white; with its
creamy rays filtering a path through the stringently
dolorous darkness,

The chill still lingered pertinently; perpetuating
infinite goose-bumps to inevitably creep up the body,

The horde of impeccable rabbits still frolicked in
their burrows; playing hide and seek with the drifting
clouds and shine,

The preposterously fat python still slithered through
the marshes; furtively awaiting to gobble its prey; in
the clandestine darkness concealing his belly,

The spider still spun its web; running at astounding
speeds from one end to the other; producing
marvelously shimmering silk with its slime,

C'mon let's enjoy ourselves to the fullest O! beloved;
bask in the aisles of uninhibited desire and romance;
for the night was still young; the darkness had set
blazing fire to our senses; the night was still alive.