Some things are always left behind… Like the Art of Making Pickles. Some things are always left behind… Like the Art of Making Pickles.

The poem compares seasons with love and betrayal. The poem compares seasons with love and betrayal.

But love works in mysterious ways, As another pair of spectacled eyes took their chance.... But love works in mysterious ways, As another pair of spectacled eyes took thei...

Love as wet, He and she as we, Shower love, Like rain in wet season. Love as wet, He and she as we, Shower love, Like rain in wet seas...

Lost in your deep brown eyes Drowning as I tried to swim, Yet it was a lost cause For my ... Lost in your deep brown eyes Drowning as I tried to swim, Yet it was a l...

A hundred falls, The worst of seasons, My love for you, Shall know no reasons. A hundred falls, The worst of seasons, My love for you, Shall know no r...