What I love about this time of the season
Are the fogs, mists and dews with reasons-
Be that; as soon as the sun wakes from west,
And there are no fabrics over my chest,
There is this sensation I get from the fogs
When they get me misted by cold windy slogs.
Striking me through my wide open windows,
Waking me up to the dawn, from my pillow
It feels like life has not an atom of troubles
And days are easy like Sunday mornings.
It has this freshness and smell of a good wine
Especially when the environment is serene.