Waiting for an oyster dawn,
When I won't have two tired eyes;
And it won't be difficult for my
Windows to grow sunlight-
Goodbyes to the cold stormy nights!
I won't be lying down
on the drought of my bed-
Gravels and pebbles,rainless.
Sweet scent of her hair would do
some artistic work in my breathe!
My fuzzy eyeballs would paint her curves-
the proper poetic justice she deserves!
She would then touch my forehead
With her green softness--
While clouds of soothing shiulis would
cover our calligraphic knots!
Rainbow feathered birds flying all over the october sky-
Where our crystal cascade will dive.

© Subhajit