The speedy winds
Whistling through the leaves
There is no echo but only
Psithurism and nothing before it rains
Thick dark clouds blanket the
Light blue sky
Waiting to weigh down on us
Spurt out nothing but rain
Sitting by the door, with a book in my hands
Smelling the petrichor come through
Pages soaking up the mist sprayed
Curling in nothing by natures love upon us
As it continues to rain, the nature bellows
Making us verve & dreamy, comfortable & gleamy
Seeking coverture in the comfort of homes
As we wait for the tumid clouds to pour love upon us!
©Shweta, 2020. All Rights Reserved
Find my creative works here — Baking of Words & Muses
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