The Allegory Of Pleasure... Poem by RIC BASTASA

there is more
to find in this mountain

the snails have not reached here
the birds are not telling the complete view
a vista of clouds
and little white houses beside a river

there is more on top of the trees
you have seen a lot
but there is nothing that can be touched
for the pleasure of the hands

so what is the use?

the feet are ready
and tomorrow is the final leaving

there is no regret
somehow he will try getting into the body of the cow

it will be nice there
there is more pleasure with the grass
and there is no moral
code to adopt

mud is still cooler for the body
dress is but a prison without a key