Wheat Field with Rising Sun, Vincent Van Gogh, 1889
Golden angel has spread wings...
soon a blazing day appeared..
as a promise carried through
and the breathe reared...
glistering hills and houses almost
standing tall aspire to kiss the sky
pine trees yet beaming with joy
have a chit-chat with creepers
n bushes nearby.....
baby cloud came along
slowly crawling over them
and stopped by crying on her way,
requesting to take her
in arm and to have a play...
So pampering and loving
a hill made the baby calm...
uttered holding smile pure...
"O baby get back home to grow big
come later with friends, it is yet summer.."
"it is yet summer" a chorus was heard
from a distant field...
the grains were dancing in trance
being adorned with attires of colour
and the Golden Angel sighing peacefully;
rose wondrous nature...