This is a poem about a bird who waits for the right ambiance to make love to her lover. A simple rainfall in the evening of a monsoon month of July.
The Lines
There she sits in poignance,
On a dainty Gulmohar branch,
As she enjoys the lemony balmy sun,
On a monsoon mid-day of July,
She looks at the powder blue sky above,
And sings a soulful melody,
She waits in a vivid eagerness,
For the Prussian blue evening to arrive.
After a two-hour stay,
She welcomes the soothing breeze,
And the drops of pristine rainwater,
Fall down like a shower of love,
And they drench the earth in entirety,
Every leaf of the Gulmohar tree,
And the coy nightingale too.
And she retires to her nest,
With her mate, her lover,
After a dreamy dance of ecstasy,
Under the tranquil showers of bliss,
Bewitched by this mushy scenery,
They bloom together, into a beautiful unison,
Like soulmates for infinite lifetimes.
Listen to my poetry podcast on-
Love: Nature: Lovers
Tulip Brook 