The mellow laughter of the clouds,
The sight of the spark in the roaring sky,
The kid under the huddled blanket,
The pitter pater on patio front,
And the taps left open in them clouds.
The drops on the leaves,
Earth a brilliant smell of wet mud,
A cup of steaming coffee and marshmallow by the open window,
A duskish sky in hues of wet blue.
The peacock danced on the hill top,
The thatched roof sank with the many holes,
The trees danced
And the old man smoked his pipe
The taps left open and the spark in the sky,
The onset of monsoon,
Puddles and muddy scenery.
With sneezes everywhere,
A soaked towel,
And Kids in front of the fire place.
Dew drops omnipresent,
Imagination running wild and wet,
Splashes all around,
Taps are open in the sky.