The Summer Mist

The orangish tinge of lime fruits in the orchard

Tripped through my tongue tip,

Like a streak of bitter-sweet-sour thought just taking a

Glimpse through my wandering mind.

And the morning, an unusual dew filled the air,

Engulfing the space with a snowy coolness, and a gush

Of mild wind just stroking my hair like someone

Patting me down to sleep.

Somehow, time did not want to move, and pace forward

To see a pricking summer noon, and it stood still

In the morning dew, not wanting to drip the coolness in the air,

Like a child clinging on to his mother’s hand, not letting her go.

The mist in the air, once again swept the fragrance, and

I smiled at its happiness and joy, like an unexpected visitor

On a summer day, somehow, I wanting the summer mist to stay,

and not sway away and melt into the scorch of the heat, of the summer sun.