At dusk in a little cosy room,
Curtains shuddered to make some tunes;
Cool breeze squandered around me,
As it was the only fragrance I used;
On the rooftop made of metallic sheets,
Rain pattered in melancholic rhythm;
Melodious notes of chirping birds,
Made me see partially from beside the cushion;
Aroma of wet soil and fresh blooming buds,
Dragged me towards the inviting casement;
My face felt those rain drops with blush,
The dewy vision which I saw cherished my day with excitement;
That whistle of milkman who was selling milk carts,
And then those sips of hot tea while sitting on a couch;
My favourite RJ to host cheerfully to that morning Radio show,
And then those recipes I discovered partially raw;
It’s was just a night I dreamt so long,
On my bed messed up with my spectacle and some notes;
Ring-wrong my alarm clock rung,
Back in reality I got sunk;
