I dream of a home in hills,

Amidst steep, scary and lush heights.

Overlooking pine and rhododendron trees,

And surrounded with solemn cedars.   

With him whose omnipresence,  

Regulates the soft murmur of my heart  

Its cadence becomes upbeat with his arrival,

And sunrise turns into perennial golden.

Seasons there alternate between

Mild summers, brief monsoons,

And prolonged winters.  

And an unkempt garden contains roses,

Geraniums, wild coffee, and stinging nettles. 

Since the sky is clear blue,

It is blithe May,

Cherry and plum flowers

Have set their trees ablaze.

Mist and dark clouds now hover

Over vales as moisture-laden wind

Foretell arrival of torrential rain. 

In winters only sound that prevails

Is the crackle of logs in fireplace

Chirping of swiss replica rolex snow-finches in a distant forest, 

He weaves a web of immersive conversations,

And antagonises me to amuse himself.. 

As I watch him in naiveté

Filled with cornucopia of love,   

He adds more logs into

The central fire of house, 

It is a gradual fabric of life with him,

Designs in which are abstract and floral.