When water runs down dry shingles
The ponds become full to overflow
When the spine of the mountains tingles
With the melting of the snow
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A refined poetic imagination, Aarushi. You may like to read my poem, Love And. Thank you.
When the fog clears away, leaving drops of dew; When the bright brown sun begins to show; Summer has come at last; my child; Summer has come; I know! you are so bound with nature and you are able to picture it into a wonderful poem. tony