Thankful

To those Purple Orchids,
bringing my mystique out. 
wantedly or without my permit. 
To the brisk blow.,
to snog it tacitly 
here beside my ear. 
Then to the sturdy sea, 
for reminding me, 
The sentence of a sin. 
To the flaming fire., 
For rescuing me
From all deceits. 
To the cool drizzle., 
to call the warmth out
When it's hight temp there.
To these silvery chords.,
To pop up the question
when all others in quiet.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2018

Poem

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