The Less Ordinary

That spirited girl I know
Is attracted to the simple joys, the old-school stuffs,
Opening up a snail mail, twirling and swaying to music, catching a butterfly,
Perpetually seeking special moments with the beautiful nature, which otherwise elude and fly;
The fresh green leaves complementing the soothing mud beckon her,
While the gentle wind ruffles through, her cares go blur;
The longing to walk barefoot on the soft lush grass and the soft sands underneath perpetuate,
She is wrapped with the warmth of the sun, as she experiences tranquil when her feet and the earth osculate;
Finding plentitude in the supposedly simple fragment,
The earthy smell of rain, the want of her breath to fog up a glass in the chill morning, she quests for her dreams rudiment;
The pleasure of cuddling up with a book and hot kaapi, watching rain through the window pane while gorging on a dark chocolate, or drenching herself under a cascade,
Here she is joying, rejoicing, celebrating the time with her loved ones, celebrating life with shoulders unweighted;
That spirited girl meets me, during the happy hour,
When I make my visit to the nearest mirror