Swinging in the swing,
by the mighty mountain windmill
sat the country lass, as lovely as could be
Slender fingers, pale-white, clutched ’round the rope,
Unruly hair, jet – black,
hid the big brown eyes, twinkling beneath
Air was cool, still was all,
but not the black clouds,
grouping to a huddle.
Tiny drops fell, touching the rosy lips and cheeks,
only to roll down to the red blouse, and,
finding their way to her lap, rested, the new rain, warm and fresh
Erelong, she let the drops fall
‘twas the first rain, ‘twas special
‘twas the key to her soul
For, her heart was in the plains,
Where he lived
The magician; her love and her life
The parting was certain;
So was the grief.
The promises, the dreams, all went vain
He left, he had to
He left, she had to let him go
He left, but not his smell
With magic from the heavens, his smell, he left for her,
Buried in the grounds beneath,
To be touched and revived by the first drops of rain
The maiden closed her eyes
and right into her soul he went
She was in the plains, and he, a breath away.
The setting sun, couldn’t help, but
kiss the falling drops, and, bless thy soul,
The Rainbow bridged the yearning hearts
Name : Rugma M
Company Name : EY