Who turns the pages, over
The sweet little table lamp
While I sleep wide awake, limbless
Doing silhouette’s work
Toiling whole night;
Brethrens of the dark
Took hold
Of my study chair
Lazily, I sliced an eye
Towards minstrel
doing its musical bid
Pages after pages
Satisfactorily I gasped
My sleep
with sound comfort
whistling by the nostril
An ” original” poem! Remarkable imagery !
So much thanks dear Sir Vijay Nair Ji
Lovely !!
So much thanks Monica Ji