Why dost thou, child,
Stand ‘neath that tree?
What secrets doth the lake
Whisper to thee?
What made thee
Hasten from thy town?
What refuge dost thou
Gather from yon den?
What heavy burden
Lies on thy teenie shoulders?
Art thou trying
To hide a sea of tears?
Come hither, little one.
Come hither to me.
Lay down for a little while
Thy little head weary.
I shall wipe away thy fears
And thy precious tears.
Come hither, little one.
Come hither to me.
Vineetha Mekkoth
All rights reserved
Not as immediately accessible for the general reader as one might have anticipated. Whilst deftly crafted the poem’s cod-Shakespeare appears overly mannered and stilted.
Point noted, sir. Thank you. 😀