File:Waterdruppel op blad.JPG
Source: Wikimedia Commons
a drop-
ever so mild,
ever so small,
ever so lucid,
dancing beautifully
on the tiny green leaves,
merging onto the surface,
being one in unison. A drop
you are, a drop that smells
heavenly, a drop you can
touch and destroy, so soft,
so delicate, so tiny, not
blue, not green. I hear,
tip-tip you fall, you
cry, you die.
*As a part of NaPoWriMo. #17
*The prompt by NaPoWriMo today was: “to write a poem in which you very specifically describe something in terms of at least three of the five senses. So, for example, your poem could carefully describe the smell of something, the taste of something, and the sound of something. It might be helpful to pick things you have actually encountered during your day: a cup of coffee at the office (“burnt, flat, and joylessly acrid”), or a hyacinth in the neighobr’s yard (“riotously curled petals shading violet-lavender-white, against the dark-green glossy-smooth leaves”).” 
*Also, do visit my friends who are participating in the challenge. You won’t be disappointed.


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