Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Long, Long, Long, Long Ago
Long, long, long, long ago,
There lived a man named Santiago
He loved to play his pipe day long,
By the rivulet and hill along.
The tune of the pipe filled the air,
Nature the listener, human a rare!
With its melody danced the trees,
The brooklet stopped going freeze.
The sky remained azure always,
The Sun could not withdraw his rays.
He had nothing to have there,
Squirrels cracked nuts to share.
The song birds singing moved around,
Keeping in pace with his lovely sound.
Happy was the man Santiago,
He lived there long, long ago.
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
(Away from the murky dull life, I want to stay there where Santiago lived)