Summer Eve. Comments

Jeepers creepers! Let us all write our poetry on nature alone. That is what one Keats did and another W.B. Yeats did. Yet the credit goes to Wordsworth. A feel the same thrill when i read this poem just like any other poem of Blakes and Shelley. 'coz winter have passed without a trace, leaving only soft songs of the breeze, & the imposing dance of the trees, which grows your love for saunter, where aroma for sure you will counter. Why should your poem go noticed. So i will read hundred as each time pleasure is mine, mine only! A tap of on shoulder of poetess. Hop! hop! tap! tap! ...