Glide in the shades of grey
The grey is never a colour to me;
it's the warmth of a cloud when it hides
the scorching sun in its stride.
It is the teasing gesture of an old child
still hiding somewhere in the wilds.
It's a gentle veil, as here,
shimmering behind which is a tint of pink, a casual kiss.
It's the evening shades of leaves,
the coolness after a storm,
the touch of warmth lingering on the sand
as the children leave to join the band
of the beach crowd going home,
some leaving their spades back in a hurry.
The grey is the love that covers them all.
The grey is never a colour to me;
it's the warmth of a cloud when it hides
the scorching sun in its stride.
It is the teasing gesture of an old child
still hiding somewhere in the wilds.
It's a gentle veil, as here,
shimmering behind which is a tint of pink, a casual kiss.
It's the evening shades of leaves,
the coolness after a storm,
the touch of warmth lingering on the sand
as the children leave to join the band
of the beach crowd going home,
some leaving their spades back in a hurry.
The grey is the love that covers them all.
Sushama Karnik (c)
31 Aug. 2021
Very nice poems.
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