Evening Walk

As I begin my walk, the mind begins its talk

The inner and outside noise synchronized

Poetry begins, the words get verbalized.

Bougainvillea with many a hue

Of white, pink, and purple.

The tree growing taller day by day

As if pining for her lover, in the sky

He takes the cue, sends the cloud under his rein

She, happy to get drenched in his rain of love.

The clouds looking gloomy and grey

But it sent the rain, for more I pray

The wall at the compound nearing completion

Not one divisive, just a physical barrier to remain.

The money plant grows abundantly

The economy of the country falls flailing

She says “it is all in safe hands.”

Wish the money was in poor’s hands.

Sweat broke out on the brow

I heard the calling of the returning crow

Wound up my walk, to nature I did bow.