ALIEN
Someone came to my room last night
An alien, I am sure, in frisson of delight
He crumbled on my dilly springbok breasts
And kissed my **** between love and rests
He was good at love, so how could I fight?
He was from a planetoid, a quicksilver lake
He stopped by my humble hut and saw me awake
He never thought of amber swan up for a take
He smiled like an early bird and put out the light
He was good at love, so how could I fight?
He had a wispy whisper to tell his tale
Which began in a Blanagram and ended in a whale
“My little Mary sunshine my hands go downhill
You are an earthling a cure for alien spill
You are a maritime dream of red sea squill”
I burst at the seams, a jiggery-pokery prank, a twist
Our love went on hand in hand and hand over fist
I sang a willow’s song “How a maid can milk a bull!”
I had no hammer, a chisel, a drake or a drool
But he was good at love, How could I resist?
Next day I bled and I was fresh as tart
I slept with an alien and took other's part
After all he was right, he lost his star chart.
© RAJAT KANTI CHAKRABARTY
27th October, 2014
Categories:
sea squill, allegory, symbolism,
Form: Rhyme