The Pale Yellow Florets

While  opening  the entrance door
early in the morning,
when the sun appears on the horizon
with the sky  pale and grey
I smell something unusual.

I go down the patio
notice wetness in the ground..
Rains after a month and half,
I dance around in glee.

The pale yellow florets
of the old Neem tree
lie large on the floor.
Like a  bed of fluffy cotton
fear trampling on them.

Could experience a tangy,
sour and intense fragrance.
An aroma impregnates the air.

An experience of the senses.


The Line I Set (Revision)

A line I draw
an abstract demarcation,
limits me  much as possible
a constraint,
I dare to cross.

The distinction is splendid
as between a cliff and the lake
one steep towards the sky
the other on the flat level.
A watchful entity.

Conscious of the line
I refrain from indulgence
wish not to speak of others
passive and sober, I work
experience serenity.

A revised version. Like to know which reads better?