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Priya Singh

Abstract

4  

Priya Singh

Abstract

Love

Love

1 min
259


The sunrays in the winter,

The sound of rain,

Love tastes like the flowers in the spring.

Love smells like old books, to whom I run for comfort.


In the sound of waterfalls,

In the melodious tune of streams,

In the sweet little flowers still waiting to bloom,

Love exists in every little thing.


Like cold breeze, running softly through the hair,

In winters, like the snowflakes everywhere,

Like the smile of a newborn,

Love touches every part of the soul.



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