Where have you ventured Which domains you've entered In search of words In search of inspiration In rustling of shriveled, yellow leaves, Turning the of pages of a book, stiff The sounds that you hear, Is it not poetry to the ear? Raising with the hopeful rays of sun Along with the squirrels, you see it run In melodic notes of a cuckoo's song Arises another stanza of a poem, long. Filled with scent of freshly baked buns And the aroma of brewing coffee, hot Savouring every bit of your breakfast, delight A new poem, does it not incite? In the face of a traveller unknown A pauper, roaming the streets alone The observations that you make Is it not in a poem, you convey their ache? In empty roads on a stormy night, Lying awake on bed, giving up the fight Hundreds of thoughts that have escaped, Another piece of poetry it has shaped. Longing for his touch and your amour Bloossoms out of adoration, so pure. When unable to resist your pet's allure, A poem is not always weaved out of words. Through the knots of your unkempt hair A face smiling back at you in the mirror Capturing in verses, your beauty and essence, A poem to you is a love letter from self. Tell me, Where have you ventured, Which domains you've entered, What you were searching for, Was it not within, all along?