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IN JEST
His miser boss
Went out for a toss
When the MD knocked his door.
He plummeted down
To save his crown
When his senior asked for more.
His hair had grown
on his chest
On his back as well down south.
Where nested in peace
There hung two bees
His tongue got stuck in his mouth.
The doc came up
Once or twice
To run his regular tests.
His BP down,
His wife in town
He lost his killer jests.
He crossed himself
and prayed to God
His taste for wine was lost.
The honey bees
made merry cheer,
His company bore his cost.
Then one fine day
they stopped his pay,
No wife no son no home.
He saw a man
without a shawl,
All hurled and curled in snow.
With nothing to lose,
the bees long gone.
He poured his drink once more.
The only coat,
he gave in zest
To the man and settled his score.
Copyright ©
Aparajita Bhattacharjee
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