Beneath Her Parasol
P Pradip Chattopadhyay
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Beads on her forehead
Drops on her cheeks
I love when they're made
In hot summer weeks!
Some above upper lip
Trickle some down
A few on her nose tip
This hot noon in town!
Beneath flowery parasol
Flushed is her cheek
The shade is just too small
To avert sun's prick!
I care for nothing more
But the walk beside her
See on her face pour
Streams of summer!
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş