With each splash and steady stroke
Across the park, from where I sat,
I wondered what they slowly spoke
And painted 'em in canvas, flat.
Was it about the happy memories?
Or did they talk of knees being sore?
Did they discuss worldly stories?
Or was it about weather and more?
I tried to capture their li'l moment
Filled with longing, love and grace,
'Warmth in watercolours', I named the event,
In serene green, their warm embrace..
YOU ARE READING
MUSINGS.. A collection of poetry
PoetryPoetry is.. beauty, style and grace; Poetry is.. insightful, precious and profound; Poetry is.. ecstasy, passion and glee; Poetry is.. past, present and future; Poetry is.. heart, mind and soul; Poetry is truly a blessing.. Feel the same? Somewhat...
