at the midnight
the summer dream
visits me
with the hope
it vaporises in the morning sun
the little chubby hand
let go of my hand
scratched and scared
strong and snug enough
to hold the hand of someone
my daughter started playing Monday Blues
at the morning table
as it gets louder,
my lips started humming
the song of emerald green waves
Freshly baked scones
smell like
the enchantment of the girl
chasing lotus flowers
in the rice field