In my school days
when I was eleven
on a rainy day
after a down pour
me with my friends
playing in the backyard
soaked in the rain
the mud was soft
building a mud house
was the theme of the day
busy we were
in digging the mud
small sticks we used
not any other tools
appeared a burrow
inside the mound
digging it further
we went a little deep
out came scorpions
big, black and hairy
tens of them trooped
out to the surface
jumping out from the pit
we shouted with fear
elders rushed in
with concerned looks
grabbing the iron bars
they hunted the scorpions
seven only got killed
remaining went in hiding
never after that
we ventured into the pit
Don't poke into spaces that are hidden deep inside. Nice lesson learned and delivered to all. Thank you.
Beautiful poem. You have presented it very well, in sequence...Scorpions stings are very dreadful. They will never leave one, if they feel they have been harmed...Loved reading it. Thanks for sharing..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Don't poke into spaces that are hidden deep inside. Nice lesson learned and delivered to all. Thank you.