Micro PoetryPoetry

Serenity of Nascent Love, in a November’s Afternoon

The golden of the sun,
spread on the roof tops.
The blues of the sky,
Smears on the miles apart.
The echo’s of Adhan,
in the salience of the atmosphere.
The softness of the breeze,
on the pales of her cheeks.
The thundering of the hidden storms,
in the calm of a soul.
And a dainty hand,
scribbling on the whites of a paper.
Maybe,
just may be,
Could explain the
blooming of young but eternal
new born love,
in the garden of a human heart.

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