The sway

 

Moist countenance, parched toes

The long trudge returns from shore

Where bubbles erupt but to burst

When they swell to touch slightly

The scorching segments of rocks

The sand  remains damp deep within

While the palms stretch skywards

And sway enchanted by the whispers

That pour the word among eager blossom

Slowly we return from retreating waves

By when the rocks lose their temper

While the waters still remain tepid

Swaying palm on palm on a moonlit night

Besides a sonorous cascade near us

We conjure clouds of our own

That sway from the dusk to late night

While the moon winks at us from behind

The evening well spent with full flavor

We return amidst sprinkled silver

Under a strewn twinkle in the sky

Moist countenance, parched toes

While the palms continue to sway.

Rishikesh

2345

9.54 hrs

26.4.26