My savings lie sequestered in sand
Clapping rivulet, greenery clad.
Custom of cloud, keeping windows opened wide--
The weary jewel bugs in honey-combs reside.
An ear stud picked up and lost in the way,
As desires of a wilful maiden did sway.
The other seeks and finds some other too,
As twisted nails bleed red and blue;
The road binds fast our hands in chain,
We walk down the silvery glittered lane.
We walk down the silvery glittered lane--
Wishful wings with feathers waxen.
Each an angel in the town sunlit,
The maid and the bug failing to fit;
Wax wings having scorched in hot glaring ray,
The bug slips, falters in blind dismay.
The tale crosses schoolyard as dusk crouches in--
A grass flower lass by an old rock serene.
The void lies sequestered in solitary night;
My cell phone, warden of my melancholy plight.
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