The pattering of an aestival rain,
Streets like Venice n ebbing drains,
Clouds imbued with greyish tint,
Umbrellas fluttered grasping the hint,
And the trees bathed new and green,
A girl so puerile, danced and careened.
And we ran towards an old coffee house,
Aromatic and dark like an obedient spouse.
And the glassy walls exuded and shone,
As a young barista exalts in its ambience,
Doling out white cups of Intransigence,
And one sip of that coffee like philter,
The potion ran filtering away our shame,
And as we locked eyes, on a brink of confession,
Sitting there hypnotised, awared of no recession,
And as the Rainy slithered and crawled,
A romance was born short-lived and withdrawn!
