Green rivulets streaming down,
Down the window pane.
Here it rains green.
The softly pouring murmurs,
It lulls one to sleep;
They take me to the forests deep.
Where moss hangs from the branches low,
A thick cloak for the winter leaves
And the paint, it idly drips
From the heart of the looming trees.
The world is gilded in this shade,
Sheltered in this sea of jade.
The tiny elfish creatures,
Donning their pointed features,
Come out at dusk,
Gamboling in the wreathed silver
Of the haunted glades.
In their costumes green.
They jump into the stream,
Where the lanky frog, he leans,
Among the rushes and the reeds,
Croons his musical gurgle to the sky.
With them pirouettes the dragon fly.
In air lingers a watered veil,
The clouds drift in their silken sail;
Where a heart pining in his breast,
A wayfarer, he gently treads,
Fading into this sea of green.
For Russel Sivey's contest "The Colors Have It"
Written by gautami phookan