Green silk kissing their feet and planning a further naught,
Believe me, being a poet I can read their teen aged thought,
I am sure soon the grass will start crawling on the trunk,
Let the clouds come and rain and make them drunk.
Meanwhile sun is busy with its mighty flash light,
See many virgins smiling in dreams of the wedding night,
This is a place where nature stripes and through the windows
A naughty poet is watching, writing a poem on the Rama Meadows.

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