Poetry is she:
With black eyes
On a white lily,
Enticing to be kissed,
Or may be, sometimes,
A wild buffalo,
In the mucky water,
An instrumental piano
Or The latest
Apple ring tone,
Appealing them
To download,
And after the job
Only clanging I
On the floor,
In blue,
The skimming kite,
The dream of the kid
On the roof
In the golden dusk
Or a drought
Of syrup
When mummy
Scolds at bed time.
I pine to hug her
Each time I see her
In bikini
Though on the screen,
And what do you feel
Is just to wait
Till you say:
I avoid pumpkin
But eat strawberries.