To a Leaf

Leaves of myriad hues

You may feel loved when 

The tiny droplets fall on you. 

You may be waiting for the

Finest touch of due drops, 

That lets you reawaken. 

Till now, you were like a

Nightingale, singing of 

Unrequited love. 

Now to the fullest

In your glowy greeny youth

Embalmed by the snowy due. 

Alas! For brownish leaves, 

Its a nightmare, when drops

Accompanied by the Zephyre

Its slightest touch let them fall, 

Fall upon, without being glued again. 

That's life! For one it's a dream;

For else it's a nightmare.