
I saw that pretty woman blushing,
Walking besides the blue-green sea.
The Sun soon stood up in attention..
It isn't a hazy, lazy morning anymore.
The pale white Sands on the beach,
Quickly turned sensuous in yellow.
I Blame it on the midas touch..
Of the truly holy, lovely feet of hers.
I blindly followed them all the way,
Those aren't just the footprints.
But are the special "foot-pressions"..
Of that sparkling dazzling, living angel.
She pressed, compressed this heart,
Impressed my dumb, numb soul.
Strings of this dusted, rusted violin..
Quickly turned sensuous in yellow.
I Blame it on the midas touch..
Of the truly holy, lovely feet of hers.
I blindly followed them all the way,
Those aren't just the footprints.
But are the special "foot-pressions"..
Of that sparkling dazzling, living angel.
She pressed, compressed this heart,
Impressed my dumb, numb soul.
Strings of this dusted, rusted violin..
Never soulfully vibrated in melody.
She splashed hard all the colours,
On this bare, white-walled heart!
Nothing seemed much brighter to me..
And those colors would never ever fade.
"Love's the color, Life's the art. Both together - It's a masterpiece"! Raghav.
She splashed hard all the colours,
On this bare, white-walled heart!
Nothing seemed much brighter to me..
And those colors would never ever fade.
"Love's the color, Life's the art. Both together - It's a masterpiece"! Raghav.



I'm still running fast to try stand still, 







