Hailstorm Comments

Haistorm is there in the book of mind, Like golden period of my life, amid poverty and rustic delight.

Hailstorm has become a rare guest, I wish to run with hailstorm across the field, With bare head and feet, Collet the small diamond on the grass,

The hailstorm is poetically perfect, It is the sound of perfect rhyme, The poetry that celebrated rain with small ice gave extra charm,

Mind went into the cave of heart, For unknown fear for life, The sound of Gale subbsiding friendly Zephyr, Struck the weak structure.

Green and half ripe, After a long decaying inversion of Storm with solid rain,

Hail to my aged self to go back again, Under the mango trees to collect Sleet - hit fruits,

Nature was green with my green eyes, Heart wasfresh like fallen sleet, Life was no less than dream.

Hailstorm brings the memory Of byone days, Where childhood days were deep and fresh,

It is always fascinating how something mundane can unlock the attic of memories of once past, to some hailstorms bring terror and yet you make them magical.

Very very very beautiful poem......❤️