Fresh...

Where the tulips grow i see life...
the dew on the frosted edge.. like sweet nectar ice-cream...
the bees and the butterflies couldn't sip it...

it remains... sweetness in the inside, like the beauty who slept in our childhood dreams...
waiting to be awaken... yet still it isn't..
where is my pot of frozen icicles? i had collected all of these under the bluish emerald moon cove... the wave like breeze streaming through me as i patted it into the bed of mother pearls..
i heard...
wonder whether it is true,
when the icicles of ocean and depth meet the frozen dew,
the ground will grow from the spot they combine...
rising up into the sky,
misty dew flakes fall like Nigeria Falls of the cliff of the topmost...
gushing away to most wonderful song of the sea sirens...
rocks colliding with each other keeping the structure firm and high... they ring like chimming bells...
It seems that fairytales come true up there...
Now where is my icicles?those which i think were these very icicles...
I search among the seahorse colonies...their presence gives a sparkle of glow...
the very bed of mother pearls have grown 'pearlier' than ever...
stars curl around my toes... a tickling sensation...
the pot i unearthen was....
it was....
full of starlets... the icicles gone...melted with the hopes of joining land...
a splendour of miracles...it formed starlets of hopes...
one day, they'll join the galaxies... the thousands of bright cherry glows beyond clouds and heavenly horrizons...