TO READ THE JOY OF THE EVENING RAIN..

The soil smelled like the freshness of home after a long visit 
A soul was immersed in the aroma of the liveliness emanating 
The richness of black coffee in fusion with the thickness of a book 
The evening was as innocent as the whispers of the morning dew 
Taking back to the chapter that was read and reread every day
Thoughts were musical again, rhymed with the words turned over 
That veranda had returned as my arcade to look through the rain
To read the joy of the evening rain, with some coffee and my book

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey – https://santoshchaubey.wordpress.com/