My Rhetoric Muse
Standing in my home’s backyard, I gazed at the skies
Nothing comes to my muse’s sight but two staring eyes
It swapped the branches of a tree by a daredevil jump
Whirling, twirling, passing in the air getting the hump.
Through the summer on the tall tree bare and brown
See how brown leaves are flickering, fluttering down
This squirrel, my poetry, bobbing from eyes so bright
Busy now hunting for nuts to hoard with all her might
In an old nest of crow or in a hole where day by day
Nut by nut for her winter stock explores stores away
So that when winter sets in with its cold and storm
She would sleep all curled up, all snug and all warm.
She looks again and to make sure after storing there
So she could remember, she hid the treasure where.
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Dr. Ram Mehta
Contest: make me feel you
Copyright © Dr.Ram Mehta | Year Posted 2013
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