Musing
Am sitting on the swing, musing about the
fact that there are things one can never stoop to do/say,
however extreme the provocation.
Someone is playing a mouth organ, not very
far away. The tune seems vaguely familiar, though
I cannot identify it. Or does it sound familiar because
the musician, who is probably practising, has been
playing the same tune for several minutes now?
An ideal setting for reflection. The air is cool and clean
and even the darkness is not heavy. There is no moon
in the sky tonight, and the stars are pale
and dim.
A cool breeze occasionally brings the scent of gulbakshi.
A perfect night for wandering on the beach or
sitting on the lawn to gaze at the sky.
Wishful thinking. : )
fact that there are things one can never stoop to do/say,
however extreme the provocation.
Someone is playing a mouth organ, not very
far away. The tune seems vaguely familiar, though
I cannot identify it. Or does it sound familiar because
the musician, who is probably practising, has been
playing the same tune for several minutes now?
An ideal setting for reflection. The air is cool and clean
and even the darkness is not heavy. There is no moon
in the sky tonight, and the stars are pale
and dim.
A cool breeze occasionally brings the scent of gulbakshi.
A perfect night for wandering on the beach or
sitting on the lawn to gaze at the sky.
Wishful thinking. : )