Gentle breeze blows, and my body_
starts to freeze;clam down make no sound,
But a mournful heart touching gnats.
Beehives before the grape ripe looking empty
They are busy to take juice from flower.
Slow down and then turn around_
And see the past as a gift from nature.
My childhood days can't be brought,
Remind buried in Black n white thought.
All I need is just a colourful life,
Full of joy and happiness living pain behind.
When gentle breeze touches my skin,
I stop for a while and try to feel_
Warmness of my heart,If it gives _
The measure of love all that I want .
©agar
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