Letters Or Feathers? Poem by Naveed Akram

A letter has run into feathers,
The old image of letters are words;
Keep the frock of letters a secret,
How delightful a clean person this is!
Letters are dear to the touch,
Few will discover a grassy bank,
In wrapped water, water all white,
Leaving fishes to the taste,
Feathers are scales this time.
My head chattered from time to time,
Leaving the dear person in a landing.
Let the river seek a blunt instrument
Called rocks, a fully able object,
Worrying is all it contains.