Be A Harpist Poem by Rajendran Muthiah
Be A Harpist
I'm not skilled to paint the charm of your face
and catch you when you on the porch, flit.
Did you descend down from a heavenly race
to activate my sleeping wits a bit?
Oh my Gazelle! Stop awhile to have a glance
on this unused harp and strike a string
for melodies and tunes new to enhance
and give me kicks with clothes to your body cling
and have guts, those who are on your tail, to fling!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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9/23/2024 4:36:34 AM # 1.0.0.1119
