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Noah' ark

Tuesday, September 20, 2011 , , 33 Comments

Itching to write or writing to itch? Well, both. So here, a poem on spurrrrr of the moment-

"She was thrilled of things she make, irrelevance to spices,
he was keen, on things he shape, irrespective of consequences

They built nothing, but an ark of paper. nor shelter, warmth & sans comfort
It squashed when rain, squeezed when folded & screeched when trapped.

33 Visitor's Comments:

Hi Folks,

You heard me...now its time for Bouquets and Brickbats!

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