A pink small sparrow Comes at my halo And grants me furlough To travel through hollow; I do after her lonely flow But at my trail many glow With expectation inflow Of Money red or yellow. It made me strong fellow, From yesterday to tomorrow, Who travels lonely and slow By using a wheelbarrow. No friend or enemy allow Me to enter in his furrow. So ye decide judiciously now And choose relatives or sparrow.
I am developing a new style of writing poetry where ending words of a line rhyme with one another, at least in last sound. I named it Pari Style. Hope readers will like it. Thanks to those invisible hands and fingers which supported and inspired me to continue my efforts in my new, creative, artistic and innovative “Pari” style. Thanks for your inspiring, kind, soft fingers.