Come to me, like a patch of winter sunlight,
through the mesh of leaves...
In the warmth of a blanket in the early hours of morning,
as the fog trickles in through the window.
In the dream, that I never wanted to end,
but forgot in the bright glare of the day.
Come to me, like a gust of hot wind,
across a bluish-gray lake....
carrying the heady scent of jasmine,
cajoling me to sleep.
Come to me, as a star-studded sky,
seen through a torn feathery cloud...
as the waves caress my toes,
choking me in the feeling that I couldn't want for more.
Come to me in the smell of the first few drops of rain
touching the parched ground...
promising, that life will find,
its own way...to be!
Author: Jayeeta Sinha Roy
through the mesh of leaves...
In the warmth of a blanket in the early hours of morning,
as the fog trickles in through the window.
In the dream, that I never wanted to end,
but forgot in the bright glare of the day.
Come to me, like a gust of hot wind,
across a bluish-gray lake....
carrying the heady scent of jasmine,
cajoling me to sleep.
Come to me, as a star-studded sky,
seen through a torn feathery cloud...
as the waves caress my toes,
choking me in the feeling that I couldn't want for more.
Come to me in the smell of the first few drops of rain
touching the parched ground...
promising, that life will find,
its own way...to be!
Author: Jayeeta Sinha Roy
