
they fly and take me to the world of seasons,
where I hop along my imaginary plane.
through sun, through flowers, through rainy showers,
through rustling leaves, through ice cold breeze.
I have a pot in hands while I return back,
I plant a seed and see it growing with all the elements I had picked up from that world familiar.
Nice blog
LikeLike
ThankuππΈ
LikeLiked by 1 person