a poem by Dr. ram Sharma, India

I imagined,
in the morning,
dewy moonlight,
will descend ,
on green grass,
moonlit night will be descending,
the boughs will be budging,
by the delicate touch of winds,
chirping of birds,
fragrance of flowers,
will be there in the environment,
sunrays will be try to stand,
like a child

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