Butterflies ’ rickshaw
Fabulously seductive
Besieger butterflies
Scolding with their
Prolific tickling waltz
As a vague obscure vail
Curtain of gauze
With a see- through mask
In a fluorescent hint of
Celestial glittery spark
In the velvety wing- flapping
Fluttering of fairies
Knocking on the entrances
Of the untold deep
Heart utterances
Miss Princess
In Cloudland
shaking a leg
Throwing a pirouette
In the haughty clouds
Dream Prince intoxicated
On trapping stimulation
Sophisticated simulations
Sweeping away
Tormenting love’s traps
For him shocking
Pathetic dummies
In fog of shroud of hesitation
A storm of indignation
The tension hindering bolt
Couldn’t scare away
This fairy- tremor inducing
Butterfly dance fading atmosphere
If I owned a circus
for you I'd play the clown
(Do jugglers ever tire of throwing up?
Only when they're sick of it.)
or if I had a rickshaw
I could run you round the town
if I were landlord of a bar
drinks would be on me
as proprietor of a restaurant
you would dine for free
and if I had a row boat
I would float you down the stream
but as I have none of these
all I can do is dream
Rickshaw |abia
punish my honey
drink my creamy dream
eat my children between fat-bread
Stulted pedantic canker-bloom
Your bird-plucked eyes
will gas-up and advertise
An auto rickshaw, a carriage
Like a tortoise
Returns
Along my obsolete graveled
Road.
The auto rickshaw rolls on:
My bucolic
Rocks
Mirth of a birth,
Rapturously.
The auto rickshaw passes by a
Nuptial hall :a
Bride
Stands in the splendor
Borrowed.
The auto rickshaw pauses before a
Rural maze :
My
Career knocks get
Mocked.
The auto rickshaw, the three
Wheeled, creeps through the
Nostalgia
Scenting textbooks
New.
The auto rickshaw halts now
On a lap,
For
The road is lost in
Fog.
On a sunny holiday
The rickshaw-puller
Goes on working all day long!
Tiny tots
No thoughts
Uniformed, Bagged, Tiffinboxed, Waterbottled
In microcosm mollycoddled.
Childish, pettifoggy, peremptory
Yet sent out to be a small soldier in
The gargantuan, outer world
Squeezed as if chickens in a van
Tearful eyes, woolly babble, scream
Picked up from homes, left to schools
Regularly he ferries them deligently
Father of the child
Unknown love bond
Whose father?
Whose child?
Yet benevolent
In the coming and the going
yearning,
Priceless, guided duty
Leads the path, nameless somebody.
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