Overcast grey skies,
peacocks cavorting blithely.
Distant from Thyself,
soaked in nectar of Thy name,
my heart sings Thy sweet glories.
Linking with Moonwashed Weekly Prompt
Welfare unto all
Rab rakha
The pulse of freedom
There is a sight I hold dear. A misty morning, a grey veil, green hills in the background, lush and abundant. On the fore, at about 100 feet...
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He went there. Daily. Unfailingly. His conversations, Candid, Intimate. And why not! He had Inspired That iron-man, ...
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The sun was nearly gone. So were the last of his passengers. That was what he thought. Driving the cab at snail-pace through city’s traffi...
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The 12 inch heel, the confident gait, The measured steps, the sudden halt, The blush on cheeks, the smoldering eyes, The hands on h...
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Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.