You'd find the curtains lightly dancing
to the tune of that song,
to which we'd bashfully waltzed
the first time you had held me,
You'd smell the musk
Spreading its wings in the air,
That you once said, drove you
dizzy when you were around me,
You'd find poetry singing softly
Behind the veil of silence,
Reading aloud my verses of love,
Calligraphed on the bare canvas
Of my skin, in Urdu,
Curving and turning shyly,
For you to trace with gentle fingers,
Right to left, misra to misra,
Sher to sher,
The beher of each caress
Matching the stirring of my breaths,
Culminating at its pinnacle,
Into a ghazal, your ghazal,
That would, with demure grace,
Take form and calmly embrace,
The raging fire, the desperate uproar
Lashing at my parched, starved soul.

A strange-sounding name has the gnu,
Which has rather little to du
     Except give us fits,
     For were all names like its,
Just look how we'd have to spell gStu.

A vague misty haze
Blanketed the world.
Only dull shapes could be made out
Through the primordial fog .


It is said that in those times
The very earth could change shape.
The moment it's observer looked away,
As if it was itself, alive.


The only certainty of form,
Was brought with light,
Which was a luxurious commodity
Before the great forges were lit.


With the dawning of light,
So too dawned life as we know it,
Which flourished and grew,
Under the light of newborn stars.


But now the forges
Are all but extinguished.
Dark spots envelop the sky
Where stars once churned.


It has already begun,
The end to light's long reign.
And with its end,
Will obscurity return,


In the rolling fog of ages.

The ***** of a gent from Kent
Was angled like the roof of a tent.
     When his good wife Nell
     Began to swell,
He said, "Why, I've a creative bent."

While Tweety's well known for his chirp,
And Pluto's trademark is his slurp,
     For human fame
     One needs a name
Like Wyatt, who was known to bEarp.

It may well be that there is no
Man who's seen abominable snow-
     Man, known also as yeti;
     Yet I think if we met, he
Might flee as fast as HE could go.

Endangered's the beast called the rhino,
Whose horn is prized by the Sino.
     I asked one (with a smirk):
     "Does this stuff really work?"
He softly replied, "Oh my, no."

One thing we think deserves mention:
Right now there's no real dissension
     About whether salt
     May be at fault
As one cause of hypertension.