She made her way over the hills again. Approximating every sense. At every pause, admiring the serene of nature. Magnificent and mysterious she felt. Only thing she could think was about the creator of the universe. Subhanallah.
As climbing up to her right there was something which caught her eyes. It was like a casket in nature. A sudden contrast in colour and texture. Perfectly aligned lavander tree with a small gap in between creating a path. Welcoming everyone with strong sense of smell.
" Morning colours peeping
Through the petals
Singing it's floral notes
Shining it's young violets
Chirping birds
Adding up extra essence
To her happy soul
She is now calm and centred"
YOU ARE READING
when I open the window.
Poetrycurve twitched up or curve twitched down it aint always you who makes that......
