It brought fresh air
it brought life
it brought joy
it brought peace
a relief from the heat
a blessing divine
on cloud nine
it takes.
this place is one
like none
a protective dome
it is our home.
like none
a protective dome
it is our home.
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7 comments:
Oh, my Mum told me that when she was a little girl in India, her mother would take her and her brother to the hills in summer. To Khandala. She remembered it fondly.
Home is a safe place, at least it should be. For sure if all works like it should against rough natural environments. When people get I inevolved some break the rules.
I enjoyed reading this, thank you.
Thank you to for visiting my blog, please come again.
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Beautiful picture and your poem is a breath of fresh air in itself.
Dear Rosemary, Jim and Debi Swim
Thank you so much
I love this so much, Anjum. The visuals are lovely, and the tone leaves in a peaceful mood.
When home and hills are open and peaceful that does, indeed, bring a wondrous feeling, as light as a feather. :)
Home is where our heart is, a visceral thing.
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