Context:Memoirs of my trip to the gardens in Singapore.
Carpeted greens,
Brilliant flowers,
Smiling they broke
Into myriad colours.
Gentle streams
Silvery fish,
Tranquility surrounds
With hardly a twitch.
On the mound
A pleasant sound,
The joyful glee
Of children resounds.
At times the scrape
Of a familiar pitch,
The sound of men
Raking the leaves.
The moist summer heat,
The rippling flutter,
Of butterflies and birds
With my senses, I gather.
Hand in hand, lovers they wander
Close they are, to each other;
Ecstatically oblivious
Of all, but the other.
Vacant I trod
Along its worn paths,
Composing my soul
My spirit, my whole.
Brilliant flowers,
Smiling they broke
Into myriad colours.
Gentle streams
Silvery fish,
Tranquility surrounds
With hardly a twitch.
On the mound
A pleasant sound,
The joyful glee
Of children resounds.
At times the scrape
Of a familiar pitch,
The sound of men
Raking the leaves.
The moist summer heat,
The rippling flutter,
Of butterflies and birds
With my senses, I gather.
Hand in hand, lovers they wander
Close they are, to each other;
Ecstatically oblivious
Of all, but the other.
Vacant I trod
Along its worn paths,
Composing my soul
My spirit, my whole.
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