Poem By B D Narayankar
Flying off the office
She (beloved) finds a perch on a chair
Twirls her eyes this side and that hunting for me;
Such a delicate girl, no less than a silken voice
But she brings the venue down with her chirpings,
Does not leave me to string a story properly
How many girls of innocence
Keep getting molested
Day in and day out ...
And this girl
All she cares about is how to array twigs of love
To make a home in my forlorn heart
She is the eighth wonder -
she is my chirpy little Moon
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