Unfulfilled
Often I had chanced to ponder on
And awe at the wondrous gracefulness
With which she manages to climb in
The brimming omnibus amidst human mess.
Her name, I know not, but I can tell
Her's is a beauty which many fancy.
Though I'm unsure she bears which fragrant smell-
Her cheerful face, even in my dreams, I see.
Seldom she opened her little mouth
To converse with a neighbor sitting next
And spoke in sweetest dialect of the South,
Her tongue now moving and now coming to rest.
On some hard day, in the crowded bus
With effort she strains her nimble feet
Would she be angry? I start to guess..
Yet her smiling lips are just as sweet.
P.Siddartha
Dt:June 2005
And awe at the wondrous gracefulness
With which she manages to climb in
The brimming omnibus amidst human mess.
Her name, I know not, but I can tell
Her's is a beauty which many fancy.
Though I'm unsure she bears which fragrant smell-
Her cheerful face, even in my dreams, I see.
Seldom she opened her little mouth
To converse with a neighbor sitting next
And spoke in sweetest dialect of the South,
Her tongue now moving and now coming to rest.
On some hard day, in the crowded bus
With effort she strains her nimble feet
Would she be angry? I start to guess..
Yet her smiling lips are just as sweet.
P.Siddartha
Dt:June 2005
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