My Cloudy Cloak


I remember,

Edging towards your charming woods,

Whistling wind and swaying leaves.

Mist drifting over the trails I laid,

And nothing to be heard or said.

I am draped in the gentle clouds,

And gliding away in the breeze.

Your lushness brushes against my skin,

Reminding me this is not a dream.

My skin feels parched as I type these words,

Reminiscing in my sparse abode,

Those stolen moments of blissful oblivion,

And my cloudy cloak which is now undone.


I thought of penning this little poem as a tribute to my trip to a charming little hill station called Parwanoo in Himachal Pradesh, India. It is situated upon a hill 5000 feet above the ground where you have nothing but clouds and pine trees for company.



5 thoughts on “My Cloudy Cloak

  1. I’m seriously dumbstruck with those who have penned . Poems are on one of the most amazing forms of Art , and your art is just too exquisite . Lovely πŸ™‚

  2. Pingback: Not So Summery Solstice | agonyandecstacy

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