and it is frost.
Visibility becomes too low.
The same old story
repeats in a new show.
The sun rises again,
warms up
and removes the pain.
Spreads her wings to fly
high in the blue sky,
the poor dove!
She thinks
she has lost her love!
Alone she goes
for a solo flight!
Unaware!
Someone is back
for a sexy night
in the safest nest
with all the best.
In the evening
when she comes back
She is pleased to see
a lovely gift pack,
colorful with many rainbows,
it is light coming through the windows
kissing the shining fancy silver packing
a nature’s art of colors-making,
The naughty moon winks an eye
and sleeps in the clouds.
An overnight magic
the winter in shrouds!
The dawn comes
with the colorful aromatic springs.
Pink and yellow,
blue and white,
all round I see
the spring flowers.
In love sometimes one is wet
with some unseen showers.
Come again and again
for lovely springs!
Flying like colorful kites,
customary in Punjab to celebrate the season of love.
In the sky,
instead of two,
I see four joyful wings.