On the Veranda

Rainbow clouds bathing under glamorous sunbeams,
Brisk of wind coating the shoulders as if a cold shawl,
Not paintings nor photos depicting a majestic scenery,
The body reacts with numerous involuntary shivers,
The colourful flowers, which were once petite buds,
Falling off bit by bit from this veranda; one-two-three,
It is the autumn’s destiny; an involuntary phenomenon,
Water was not scarce nor the glowing rays of the sun,
Not a lifecycle, but just descendents of one another,
Beings living a life similar to that of ours with ancestors,
Then comes the wind, blowing, picking those in need,
And I stand up and walk through the opened windows,
Seeking warmth and the mobile phone rings: “hello!”

Saturday, 18th of December 2010

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