green (leaves) the colour of freshness
Fresh is the first ray of morning’s sun
Fresh is the sip of an early morning tea
Fresh is the smell of green grass under my feet
Fresh is the giggle of an innocent child
Fresh is the breeze that flows in the field
Fresh is the taste of a ripe tomato from my kitchen garden
Fresh is the sight of blue sky from my window
Fresh is the feel of cool water running down a stream
Fresh is the first shower of rain
stream running up and down struggling to stay fresh
The last time I looked at a grass it was bright green one day, light green the next, then pale yellow and finally wore a rustic brown. We are just like a blade of grass crossing all the stages of life. But never once I thought that the blade of grass had lost its freshness. It appeared fresh at every stage to me.
There is freshness embedded in every fold of life. If we think yesterday was the same as today and tomorrow will still be the same we might lose to stay fresh. I wonder how the sky has worn the blue garment forever and still looks fresh to us. Being mortals we might wither away some day that is inevitable but we can choose to begin everyday programming ourselves with the thought that – it is a fresh start, it is a new day.
bud – ready for a fresh start of its journey
I smell nature
in fresh green grass
I smell innocence
in a hot cup of chocolate
I smell strength
in the pages of new books and covers
I smell freedom
in the vastness of sea
I smell relief
in the first shower of monsoon rains
I smell my hunger
in the freshly baked carrot cake
I smell love
in lavender, jasmine and roses
I smell my addiction
in a bottle of all ground spices and herbs
I smell laziness
in the dark blue night sky
I smell a child
The bright green grass to cheer.
Muddy paths and dust play like children.
Sweat and toil take the human shape.
Dry leaves have rattled away,
Nice bright pink, yellow and orange flowers blooms everywhere.
Summer’s heat, nightingales sing sweet all come by.
Mangoes on the trees;
Ice creams on the plates.
Children go swimming, there days never ending.
Playing all day long, they hardly come home.
Home brings relief.
Indoors smells sweet.
Lemons crushed in lemonade,
bright and refreshing.
Bubbling away in the bubble bath.
My soul quietly drifting from the past.