CHAPTER1:TO LONG WINTER EVENINGS

I spring from the pages into your arms—decease calls me forth.

O how your fingers drowse me,

Your breath falls around me like dew, your pulse lulls the tympans of my ears,
I feel immerged from head to foot;
Delicious, enough.
Walt whittman

Twilights in winter are long and peaceful. The sound of the rustling leaves of the tall pine trees have
raged the calm air that passes silently and swiftly touching the tangled hair of every young girl. I
believe Evenings are always a time of self embodiment.The days warmth has slowly lighten the
lowering temperature while there is a possibility that the snow may stick the ground at midnight.
The evening started with a little bird building a nest with threads and strings to cocoon her little
ones.it happen to continously put one thread after another.The sight of the tiny one continue to give
a senseof hope and made me appreciate the littlevaluable things of nature and the beauty of the
rusty evenings cool breeze touching my face like a bosoms warmth from heaven for a while.
Immortality
It always brings my hearth an unfathomable soothing tranquility and a great relief from Days work,
The boatman
I have always been an innate admirer of Walt whittman basically of the paradox he carries in his
weitings and I generally prefer,the late chilly afternoons that perhaps is the best time to read him
and introspect the unwavering emotions of one’s life.It gives a sense of self worth and morality.I
prefer a warm cup of tea, as the dusk descends to darkness and poems of the privacy of night.
The dusty earth is already annoyed at man’s ceaseless destruction of its natural habitats.Humanity
has become the dominant species that has put immense pressure on vitality and growth of its own
beings.