The Night Was Still Alive Poem by Nikhil Parekh

The butter was still fresh; with adorable crusts of cream oozing poignantly from its molten persona,

The rose was still blossoming; with its ravishing redolence reinvigorating everything around in dull atmosphere,

The stream was still gushing at electric speeds; with its gurgling waters diffusing into spell binding froth after clashing against the chain of ecstatic rocks,

The peacock was still dancing; with its feathers spread wildly wide to a completely full and exotically animated plumage,

The grass blades were still awake; with glistening dew drops now enigmatically caressing their intricate visage,

The stars still twinkled in the sky; with the magnificent white beams of light casting a majestic spell on the body of pathetically scorched earth,

The leaves still vibrantly rustled with the wind; inscrutably whispering their nostalgic tales of day; their stupendously enamoring anecdotes of the past,

The lion still roared euphorically; puncturing the sedate ambience with an uncanny thrill that was never experienced before,

The nightingale still sang its melodious rhymes; captivating every tangible and intangible entity with the fascinating melody in its sound,

The clouds still collided in the sky; pelting droplets of rejuvenating rain in tumultuous fury,

The ducks still floated in the serene pond; fomenting blissful ripples to spread infectiously around; profoundly enlightening the night with their flurry of
boisterous quacks,

The chameleon still fluttered its ominous tail; tantalizingly changing color; splendidly blending with the surrounding it went,

The mammoth stacks of green chili were still flaming; violently embodying the area around with a distinctly piquant odor; a scent that could bring life into the
dead,

The Moon still shone a tenacious white; with its creamy rays filtering a path through the stringently dolorous darkness,

The chill still lingered pertinently; perpetuating infinite goose-bumps to inevitably creep up the body,

The horde of impeccable rabbits still frolicked in their burrows; playing hide and seek with the drifting clouds and shine,

The preposterously fat python still slithered through the marshes; furtively awaiting to gobble its prey; in the clandestine darkness concealing his belly,

The spider still spun its web; running at astounding speeds from one end to the other; producing marvelously shimmering silk with its slime,

C'mon let's enjoy ourselves to the fullest O! beloved; bask in the aisles of uninhibited desire and romance; for the night was still young; the darkness had set blazing fire to our senses; the night was still alive.