Like the golden jackal
Dotting over Americas,
The barking coyotes
Into the wild,
Straying into urban
Areas for food and hunger
from the jungle to where?
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Under the sweetly-scented kaamini plant tree
So full of stars and their twinkles,So glistening with moonshine,Writing my love poetry,Dreaming of my sweet love.The blooms scattering over slowly,The small-small white petals,Fair and fragrant, fresh and fine,Dew-laced, mist-smeared,Scattered over groundAnd I in a reclined state dreaming aboutHer sweetly.
I become very sad when I see
And donkeys lying unemployedAnd joblessIn this age ofInflation and joblessness.
I hearing the music,
High aboveWith the head on the palmSeeing the band of musicians,The artistes at the netsDoing the gymnastic skills.The joker on an ass whistling,Working as the umpire of the comedian cricket teams,The juggler with the hats, caps and balls juggling,One two four, four two oneAnd the other pigmy jokers trying to breakThe concentrationAfter having clapped and…
Whatever say you,
But a gentleman,A clean man indeedFrom his within,Beyond the reachOf the politicians.
Mr.Burkhawalli too taking
Of hers,I mean their selfies,My God!
Sitting in the circus gallery
The circus running in losses,The audience almost leftAnd the artistes lesser in number,The animals too not much.