Poetry

There is the smell of fresh rain in the air,
the perfume of jasmine on the breeze
while you smile at me, beautiful and fair
and doves coo in the twilight in the trees.
Outside the rain pours like some babbling springs
that runs anywhere in small meandering streams,
our life and love is full of little things,
of bliss, joy and care, deeper than it seems
while you affect even my secret dreams.