The sun’s woken, the deal’s now spoken, on my bicycle I am rushing along,
Though speedy the pedal, the wind does peddle – a blush, a spring song.
Blossoms in pink dressed, newly washed and pressed, gleefully now dance,
The blue skies bloom, young buds mushroom, bees await their chance.
Beyond lie more hues, in long colourful queues, pastel-brushed they smile,
The bougainvillea they spy, I nod in admiring eye: gaping they go on a mile.
The heavens now invite, in sparkling shades of white, houses aflutter watch.
Ethereal looks the haze, I wonder as I gaze, would it stop by my porch?
The breeze is down, I stop – a slight frown, the nubile dawn is hence a day,
Though the sun glorious gold, attempts to withhold, spring I see, will stay.
Wishing you a very Happy Spring, Pune!
Thanks to Pallavi, I know spring’s arrived in darling Delhi too.
Picture Courtesy: Yours truly, Rupesh Kumar