Soft lapping of waves on the beach,
Crisp winds whispering secrets each.
The sound of crisp paper being turned,
Blissful moments on the porch, very dearly earned.
The soft texture of grass under your feet,
The warm taste of hot chocolate on a winter night, oh so sweet.
The crackling of paper as you unwrap a present,
The fresh blooming primrose and their beckoning scent.
Waking up to mornings with hot tea and someone to hold close,
Cold evenings and warm winter clothes.
A few moments of bliss to count on your finger tips,
Of poetry like this, rolling off your lips.
(c) Sneha P [Rights Reserved]