Friday, May 29, 2009


He wanted, wanted badly
To send it,
For his Dearly.

To tell that, still the
Cuckoo comes to its nest.
Lays its eggs and let it
hatch to next generation. That
Things would be fine.

Don't wait for the bells
To ring.
They seldom do.
Marking each path
With memories of this & that.
Move on!

He had a Convertible,
Two seats only.
Loved traveling alone.
The road will be fine and
He will be traveling alone.

Will stop by the bush
To pee and to get a cup of tea.
Sure will gaze at the stars,
Count them,
burp and move on.

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