Sunday, August 1, 2010

NOSTALGIA (Poem)


That golf course on the hill
And thoughts of the thrill
Giant  trees and their silent groans
Wet soil and white coloured stones
Berries and cold air in your nose
Damp earth  and a pink rose
Kunai grass  in waves of green
Tiny insects causing such a scene
The cold  trickle of showers
Fields of tiny yellow flowers
Grass between your toes
Market sellers  in rows
Distant hamlets, valleys and hills
Gentle showers and puddles it fills
Bamboo  and pine cones brown
All at  that small roadside town


Photo from "Kaunapulej's" photostream on Flickr

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