WHITE NIGHT AND THE WORLD IS MY OYSTER .........................................................................PRASANT MISRA It’s a sair fecht……. But, I often get there I often face knock-backs Kisses of death , kiss this thing Or that thing good-bye… To night I know not, why I suppose, I can knock along , I can Knock along together with……… Method no more with madness ? Mush of moon-light pie-eyed ? Dead letters figured out ? A cloud-cuckoo-land With the clouds on horizon At a pit stop ? Perhaps…..perhaps a heavy date Ahead, and it’s time to take Shine to someone… Up the heart ,but still under wraps…. See…..safe and sound, How all April showers Say something under their breath Set great store By the scent of her hair…… Feel….how weasel words Weasel out, air works the oracle…. And hear ,what the walking Disaster areas swear blind – “Walk it …..walk it we can”…. And whacking all wet blankets Tells me a tickled pink voice- “ coming…..dipped she is coming “ Whizzo, whole bag of tricks Of this white night……… Whizzo whole time….and just About the rhythm of a rumbling The whole shebang…….. The world is my oyster…… The world is my oyster to night And I am in love !......
Posted on: Sat, 22 Mar 2014 19:27:04 +0000
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