I hear the birds sing

From the flora that surround

Me,

On this grass, I lay

Seeing the clouds overpower

The sun

A gentle breeze caresses my scars

Mystifying

This already perturbed soul

I see bugs🐛

Crawling around

How can time go this slow?

Then falls a dew

Sliding over from leaves,

Then I realize

Happiness is not what

But how

I see


I can either call it a gloomy day or cloudy.

My day is what I make of it.

25 thoughts on “

  1. I willed a perfect moment to stay in my grasp—
    Slowed time by shear-will so not a second had passed—
    Holding times forces I walked through the crowd—
    Touched love to her heart with a message out loud—
    Retreating to where I stood moments before—
    I loosened the spell time raced back to full score—
    She paused just a moment and turned gaze my way—
    She came to my table, knowing not what to say—
    But thoughts of hers glancing back up in the sky—
    Compelled her to give our love just one more try.
    For you tonight. Nice posting Bharath

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Oh if we only had the power! I was needing a little L’esprit de l’escalier today. It’s French for stairwell humor, or what you wished you had said after the door closed. Your poem and the clouds reminded me of it.

        Liked by 1 person

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