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It is a little before evening
a mild drizzle starts
a breeze in the background
love to run out in the open.

I do with an impulse
the drops fall on me
like soft petals, one on the head
the other on my nose,

the rest on the shoulders,
I shake myself gently
the drops drip one by one
on my chest down
to the abdomen,

my sari flutters in the breeze,
the hair dances with the wind
holding the sari a little up
I gaze at the sky with amour
it looks gorgeous,

The stars stare at me,
the clouds turn dark,
They throw an angry look
Apprehensive of a downpour
I meekly walk home.

Good work showing emotion. Last stanza with stare/angry/dark/meekly sums up the poem nicely

Thanks, Ken.