Photography

A lovely red corner I saw in Sevilla Spain . 
Lonely bench
In a tony
Place
So many
Lovely laughters
So many promising
Promises
I look into faces
Deeply
They look nice
Enough
Walking by
So perfect
Yet
Sitting across
A face that withered
Strongly
With the sun,wind
And age.
Weary with
Perfection
I do wish to
Behold the
Withered one.
An old house somewhere in Switzerland. 

The  perfect
chorus
On my street
Little feet of
Rain drops
Tapping softly
In perfect
Harmony on
The Balcony

Why does it
Get my girlhood
Back again
Memories of
Happy times roll
Away into tiny
Rivulets
Into the
Drain