The World of a Puppet
I lay in a canopy of thought;
Soul struck but miserable I am not
This ‘Mannequin’ today out in pink
Delicate but not curious at the teasing wink
I hear a gigantic crash coming from a neighbouring turf
Emotions stir almost as tall as the lip of a heartbreaking surf
This Puppet is reminded of memories of old Banyan trees
Agitated but she beats in search of a fresh summery breeze
I hear a faint howling from that 'Nabua’ dog
Fragrances of bliss once so knowing makes my heart throb
This Marionette rejoices the fluctuating drum beat
Nervous of winter chills but I assure you she won’t be cold feet
|