a smiling face,
the dreaming eyes,
received the money,
being the school fee of my granddaughter,
she gave her charming autograph on my bill,
and passed the bill to the woman sitting in the rear,
for feeding it in the computer.
Meanwhile on the next counter,
A few more transactions were made,
more bills of exchange,
The boy sitting on the next counter,
Put the bills on my pending bill,
The bill signed by the sweet little girl,
felt a burden but it couldn’t speak,
how could a poet overlook pains of a girl’s autograph,
charming and smart, beautiful and nice,
as the woman ignored the beauty of the basement,
he was once again turned in a naughty boy in his late twenties.
He said to the girl, “A man when old becomes a jolly man,
but a woman when old, becomes hysterical,
that is why I don’t like talking a grownup woman.”
She laughed so much I was amazed and inspired.
The output of my old smile and the young laughter in response,
What else it could be from an old man of seventy,
Here is my new poem!
I wish I could tell the girl,
a woman is behind you,
and when you will see that woman in a mirror,
you will find yourself more beautiful,
than what you are,
Cute Girls! The woman behind you is more beautiful!