Real Treasure
What makes me feel good,
Is the sound of the violin crafted from wood
The pitter patter of noisy rain
Tingling in my fingers, because of running sand grains
I admire the first shoots of germinating seed
How beautiful it seems when a chick opens it's mouth for feed
The little kids humming their nursery rhymes
Trance like feeling when I hear the wind chimes.
I wonder at the play of seasons
Celebrating trivial wins for a reason
Falling asleep while reading a book
Relishing food which my mother cook
Passing of train through country side
Feeling the air hugging me on a bicycle ride
Giving shape to wet clay
Looking at a kid engrossed in his play
No money can buy these little treasures
My heart knows these are without measures!!!
Is the sound of the violin crafted from wood
The pitter patter of noisy rain
Tingling in my fingers, because of running sand grains
I admire the first shoots of germinating seed
How beautiful it seems when a chick opens it's mouth for feed
The little kids humming their nursery rhymes
Trance like feeling when I hear the wind chimes.
I wonder at the play of seasons
Celebrating trivial wins for a reason
Falling asleep while reading a book
Relishing food which my mother cook
Passing of train through country side
Feeling the air hugging me on a bicycle ride
Giving shape to wet clay
Looking at a kid engrossed in his play
No money can buy these little treasures
My heart knows these are without measures!!!
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