Daydreamer {Scribbled Poetry}

The smell of freshly mown grass,

A firmament of well lit stars.

Barefoot on a night so cool,

With frogs croaking by a nearby pool.

Two Years Down Memory Lane

Sometimes I wonder if time is in a hurry. It flies by so fast like an arrow piercing through the air. Forward it goes as if running is the only thing it knows. It's been two years since I started this blog and even I could not fathom how the days flew by. Ticktock was how the clock went and all I know is that every second spent on this online journal was nothing but blissful and heaven sent.