Friday, April 21, 2017

Shades that hide

The pallor of the greenery
Showed it hadn't rained well
If at all, and there was an air of despair
The next spell was still far off
It was too early to be here
In March, to catch the spread of roses
Or the fruits or the surge of crowds
Heady with the undulating views and
Finding their eyes too few for the feast
Let the camera gather as much as it can
Though what would be seen
Would not be the same as what was seen
The garden was still in slumber
The shrubs had been planted and manured
Looking at them it was hard to believe
They would be dancing with flowers
Of such hues that no pallette could dream of
In just a month from now;
When it was time to turn back
The setting sun bloomed like a blossom
Telling us where all the shades come from
And where they all hide, in the off season


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