Making memories
All the buds and flowers that I pick up
get crammed into one space occasionally
Each day some new elements
Are picked
and
The old,
Discarded
Together they form
An assorted album
Of beautiful memories
fun
When ignorance is bliss
Bravery comes naturally!
Dance of the peacocks
Rhythmic and ever existing
The dance within them
Comes to the fore
Once in a while..
To delight and mesmerise us
Mere Mortals..
