Skip to content
One Summer Morning

The soft voice of dew
switches the nightly spell.
The color of the dawn
spills on the edges of leaves.
The sun creeps over the flowerbed,
Lit the baby anthills.
The melody of the songbird
resonates through the white walls.
The honey dripping red hibiscus,
Feeding the gracious life.
– Arun Bahadur Gurung

Leave a Reply