indira babbellapati

(visakhapatnam, india)

For whom I know not...


You held my imagination
By your little finger
And taught my creativity
How to walk, talk through
The winding paths of heart
My imagination
Flowed around you
It flew across your sky
It nestled in your warmth
The dreams bloomed
In those vast pastures
You ploughed to yield
A rich crop of my creativity

Submitted: Tuesday, July 02, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, July 02, 2013

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