A Walk in the Forest

Past the emerald lawn, pearled with dew drops
Beyond the weather-beaten picket fence
Lies a narrow well-trodden trekking trail
Lazily snaking into the forest
A path I amble on every morning
The beckoning tree-line is the gateway
To the primeval dense temperate woods
The hush here has its own cacophony
Red, blue and yellow flashes from the tops
The resplendent trees are playing holi*
Colors they hide in their thick foliage
Take feathery wings and make chirping sounds
Greens sieve the sunlight, turn it to gold dust
Glitters glides, slips through your open fingers
I sit, soak the peaceful tranquillity
Wish to grow roots too, live here forever.

****

Holi-Festival of colors.

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Shweta Singh

Shweta Singh is a home maker and mother of on-the-verge-of-being-teenager twins. She is passionate about books and food – both interests inherited from her father – and loves to write and travel at every opportunity. A closet writer, who after encouragement from friends and family has embarked on the journey of self-discovery.

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