The Tale of My Sunday Evening
Loneliness again pushed me to grab a read
A read to kill ignorance and wander in the thought of another
A Shakespearian device called for calmness and devotion of the mind
Oh! the perfect spot was shaded by the fingers of our mango tree
With my eyes glued to the waving fingers instead of the brown pages of the scripture
Unclad-ly chesting up to receive comfort from the wave of it fingers made me realize how blessed it has been from the cradle to this moment of blossom
I pray to Thee to grant me a simile of your endowment in aspect of comfort
:where all your wealth is gained in one spot
Again I prayed to Thee to save from the metaphor of your agony :Immobility is a disease to mankind.
I blazed away in further thoughts while the great work of Shakespeare was left to sleep.
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