Capering in this wind

Found this poem, I wrote a while ago, in my mobiles’ notes.

“These tiny pieces of tenderness
No matter their size
They see everything
without any eyes
They hear thousands
Without any ears
They speak wholesome
Without any mouth
No matter their size
They have a pride
Standing proudly
amongst these vines
Capering in this wind
In three colors bright
They have blossomed
Into lovely petites.”

Copyright- ©TheKayasthaJournal2017

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