the bluest blue that comes to stay
a month or two, or maybe three,
that chases all the clouds away---
it's nature on her warming spree!
the master artist took his place---
white sheets four and colours more;
the first three go at rapid pace,
he takes a while for number four.
there's autumn, spring and winter first,
a pause before the brightest one:
his lips already parched with thirst,
he picks his brush and gets it done.
what fun, he grins, for summer's here!
Shreekumar Varma is a poet, writer and a playwright. He lives in Chennai.