There's very little Springtime. But it's always beautiful. Like the sound of the feet on fallen leaves. The idle toothbrush accompanying yours. Paper planes and childhood memories. Oddly coloured drawing books of old school days. Photographs. The smell of new books. Highways. Numerous stars in a clear sky. Moonshine. Kites on a windy evening sky. A shelf full of books, nay a room full of them. Raindrops on windowpanes. The sound of thunder. Sudden darkness at daytime. Midnight. Conversations. Daydreams. Spring and beauty is for all. But the little that comes to me, is all mine.