Strokes of experiences carve out sentiments… Dreams and fascinations look for molds to take shape… with little knowledge of words I weave expressions, which till now wandered orphaned and abandoned…
Ogling owl on the perch Awaits the night of pleasure When the dark would cast its spell With moon’s radiating white bedspread And disturbing noises would settle to laze Deep down in the dreamy haze Then shall it take a flight Junket the entire night
