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A slice of the pie.

It seemed like yesterday
I saw the leaves azure,
falling,red bushes
on fire by the road-side.
Fallen leaves,
and the sound of the rakes
clearing it all..
I watched,I lingered
and I fell in love with it.
Even as I did a detour
to work and back
winter glided in,
jackets,pullovers,
hot chocolates and the heating.
They predicted snow in Kent...
I peered from my window
every morning
it never came.
Now when we have celebrated
the festival of spring in India,
Softly but stealthily
wisps of white flakes
fall from the sky.
I would have missed it
had I not pushed the window open.
I breathe in the sight
from my warm kitchen
As I strain my pasta
One moment ,a green valley,
the next a white,fairy land.
I would have slept through
the snow flakes falling...
last bits of the winter
creeping,tip-toing
I, a Pixie,
from winter to spring.
When the snow has finished falling
and the sunlight streams through
tiny little bobs of paint
will cover the lawn,
and my world,as I linger
a little longer ..
to look at God's masterpiece..
In winter,summer,autumn and spring.
Wait,but where is the summer?
It is in India ,I believe.


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