Posted in Originals, Poetry, Reflections, Travel Stories

The Green Door

​What struck me about this scene I framed in my mind
As soon as i set my eyes on the green door

What struck me about its outstanding colour
From the palettes of gray brown getting paler

Where does this door open in my dreams
Where do i want it to take me 

Or do i just want to capture it as one of my visualisations
An example of exquisite architectural compositions

Or do i go on dreaming of what could be through the green door
A smile A face A white bed A book rack by the window . . . 
(Cover image by thestonedstoryteller, at Mussoorie, India) 

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3 thoughts on “The Green Door

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