The Art of Nature

Very Early, when morning opened her eyes, Clouds were reaching to welcome, With their buckets and water was dripping out, Air was pressurised to blow down on Earth. A street bulb was lightening as a Star in sky, Thick fog was separating the visibility of eyes, Darkness was still lingering on in day flashes. The head lights were approaching on the ways. A Cat was scratching at the door in a garden, Stream was boiling out from her mouth and nose, Wet was blessing to her spunky hairs, She waved her tale as cold was dancing around her. But a stick was forwarding for shopping, Skin was swinging with her bone rods, Eyes were burning as a candle in a tea pot, The horns were blowing to aware the roads. A crow was sitting on a street light, He was noising to watch a dog on guard, The street face was washed by the fog, Nature was stitching her art to cover Sun rays.