Scenic pastures

The silent waters cascading from the rhymes pour upon the beautiful terrain gardening them soaked under an esclipse bath of painted colours draped in sheer fabric of satin that swoons over the epitaph of myriad caressed lips that sanctifies the being that is thatched to questions answered  in its finite duress of solitude
                   

Napowrimo 8- Déjà vu

I come here each day
In a wistful hope
A small portion never mind
I still dream about it more.
Toiling hard with my family,
We carve this place into a mould
And a déjà vu moment,
We see the mould come to live,
A bunch of saplings tumble out of its roots.
Copyright ©2016 by Elvira Lobo- Its My Life
Disclaimer: The image(s) in the post are taken from Google. I don’t claim any of its rights.

Voices of the Saplings

You are the reason for our smiles
the sunshine to our dreams
the roots we belong to
You are the chlorophyll to our leaves
We can stay without water
but not a day without you
You are the creator of this beautiful garden
in which Life truly blooms.

Copyright ©2015 by Elvira Lobo- Its My Life

Disclaimer: The image(s) in the post are taken from Google. I don’t claim any of its rights.