Sitting under the tree,
He writes, with a frown on his face,
What was he writing?
Sad story ? Or a happy one? Or just doodling?
Well, he looked at the tree, all the time.
The tree looked alluring.
The pink hues that swept all over the region, looked like a candy world.
Reminded him of his beloved,
And, as he gets on his flash back, he recalls how beautiful she is,
He writes’ I saw her today, she was wearing this amazing pink dress, oh how lovely it looked on her. ‘
Her cheeks flushed with pink blushes,
Her lips as pink as it ought to be,
As he wrote he thought about her, everything. All just her.
It wasn’t that later, that she indeed had come to meet him. That was their world, under the tree. They spent all day there, no one knew about that secret of theirs. They never told anyone about it. All was hidden all was secret.
Their love bloomed each day,
Their heart met each other more.
He showed her what he was writing, it was nothing but just her. He wrote about her just like a poet would write about his beloved.
Her teary eyes, that smile, knew it was him. After all he was the one who was for her.
Days passed by, seasons changed, years passed by, so many changes sprung up, But just one thing remained,
Their Love under the pink tree. ❤️❤️❤️❤️