Fiona Sunny

Hark! The wind of spring hath come
The hansom pulled by the vernal angel
Hath made its way through the wrath of tempest
With the fallen squall and Mother Petal
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When a tourist like me, wanders around
What would he like to see? -
Dew and frost glistening, astound
Many an eye; my cup of tea
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All who are locked in the cement walls may hear,
Those out in the black clouds, please lend your ear -

Open the gates to the country greens -
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It is the world’s greatest pleasure
To own an air as light as plume
The cause of a golden leaf I treasure
That a dry petal is still worth its bloom
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I wish I was upon the clouds, so high
Crouching over heads (millions below lie)
Shining in the light of the dazzling eye
And sniffing swiftness in heaven's bounds by
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O worst of the worst! Come my way
Attempt Thy snakes at my nest
Then witness Thy defeat, out my bay
For I shall fight with the best of the best!
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’Tis hard to talk about; hard to let out
Hard to be forgotten; hard to laugh out
’Cause a tear in the eye, about to say bye
Cannot stay in anymore and quietly leaves out
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Life is an endless road
Crowded with new and old motors
Day by day a distinct another
Peeps into the world's air
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When I was the innocence of my cradle
In the moon's ray through the finest glass
Who would promise peace as pure as white
Other than my parents whose words never pass?
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From tails of blotted feathers I come
And embellish a ripped up papyrus sheet
The hand that strings the words on me
Wishes to tell me its intentions
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Thou dearest smile within every face
Swallowed by the unpleasant girth of the frown
Hiding in fear of being trampled by the pace
Of tears in which many like thee drown
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Somewhere from the curve twixt lofty hilltops
Where ev’ry eye sees as ev’ry foot stops
A mighty brook gushes out and slithers down
To gracefully meet the bewildered eyes down
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Trampling on the crowded streets was me
Steady in life and as jolly as could be
Praised by the stones and passers-by
Clothed with flattery and the fake lullaby
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Never do I want to see a tear
Rolling down your rosy cheeks
I only await your arrival here
With open arms and glad beaks
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Where are you Mother in the break of day? –
I open my eyes only to see
The silent ceiling gazing at me
I do miss your smile to my dismay
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Deep in the heart of a busy city
A white-washed wall cries
Dampened by the thought of his entity
His paint never dries
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When time witnessed the barter’s spread
Deciphered was not sweat’s value
When coins arose, a need was fed –
To decide everybody’s due
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