By Liana Mukherjee
Stranger, you bring me bottled sunshine,
Springtime blossoms and an amber skyline,
Petals afire on iridescent hues,
Weaving stories of the artist's muse.
Stranger, you bring me golden harp strings,
Playing to the psalm of new beginnings,
Gossamer tales of triumph and love,
Gilded folklore from the heavens above.
Stranger, you bring me sensuous delight,
Wrapped in the scent of the goldfinch's flight,
Honeyed aroma under saffron skies,
Forsaken letters and wistful goodbyes.