Tickling Sea

There is a little place I know,

where the mind feels better.

Through the alley of the world,

we must pass and not buy anything

to enter the place I am talking about.

Situated on the other side of the hill of despair

and adjacent to the sea of tickling,

bordered with placid trees,

persistent with the season of spring

is the place where the mind feels better.

There, the streets are not of concrete or stones

but of fresh grass for the foot soles.

Houses are plenty but very few reside,

it is hard not to buy from the worlds’ stores.

Cafes and restaurants are in the open,

chefs are servers who are also the customers

and there is no concept of favours to bestow.

Streetlights operate as per the dwellers need

and the parks are never closed,

the only way is on foot because

here even the paralysed walks.

A little place for the minds,

which minds their own.

There is neither summer nor winter or humid,

only soothing breeze coming from the tickling sea.

There is a little place I know and hope to see.

Posted by

An engineer who finds joy, comfort and peace by writing poems and strumming chords. Come, let me take you to an alternate reality.

2 thoughts on “Tickling Sea

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