A Poem On A Lonely Monsoon Night
I indira babbellapati
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Each dropp of rain
Oozing joy unbound
Contains within itself
The seed, the sapling
Followed by flowers
Whispering petals
Gushing waters
Paper boats
And damp clothes
Time for monsoon fun
If you wake up with drizzle
On your face
Cool breeze tickling
Through the pores
Verging on summer's finale
And smiling monsoon
July is a strange month
Of expectation
And disappointment alike
Longing spreads as a bed spread
On lonely monsoon nights
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