Sun’s own day

The finger is pointed to a new flower in balcony
And thence to a rainless cloud ,a sprouting sun.

A translucent blue defers to the low-rise of gold
In the blankest sky, ever eaten by pearly clouds .

The wind plays mischief with yesterday’s flower
And flower promptly drops from helpless mom.

All this while, our sun friend would rise leisurely
On a lazy Sunday from under a sleeping blanket

Of thick and silky cotton rolls of a rainless cloud.
Sunday is his own day,not other son-of-a-gun’s.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s