One dark, cold, drizzling night.

I pick up my pencil and some left over page,
Start to pen down my thoughts as I look through my window’s cage…

The air is gently receiving a touch of cold,
Its letting my arm comfortably fold.
Just like how the summer is swiftly going down,
How the summer sun’s shining smile is fading into a frown.

The light drizzles with a balance of heavy downpour,
Takes me all the way back to the Maharashtrian folklore.
The rain is back means Lord Ganeshas back,
The beautiful wonderful weather is finally back on track.

All of these bring so much peace to me,
Small rain drops on fresh leaves of blossomed trees amidst the smoky fog is what I begin to see.
I start singing the famous "Rain drops on roses and whiskers of kittens,
Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens…"

This is how I end expressing the thoughts from my mind,
Now I’m going back to bed, to watch dreams that make my life crazily wind.