Those clouds are back.
They hover poignant,
A gathering of seers.
I missed them.
I feel their breath.
My shoulders get heavy.
They have come,
I am lonesome no more.
Pregnant with rain,
Hesitantly,
They release their
Drops of love.
Now, clumps of softness,
Free of their longings,
They rise and
Caress the cerulean sky.
Caressed deeply, my dearest friend, by string of your sensuous words and breath, under these cerulean skies. Thank you for sharing 😊
It’s like a painting in verse! Beautiful!
thank you both dear travelers 🙂 It was indeed a vivid painting-to-be in my head before transforming into words.