I wandered lonely as a cloud over Srilanka
That floats on high o'er vales and hills
when all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of dying humans;
A bead in her eyes reflects
my restless years.
Her strained smile in lips
recalls her hopeful days.
The poems your fingers paint in air
is beyond my minds comprehensiveness -
yet electrifies everything around you.
The words you utter is unfound in any
I was with my friends on a evening cool,
looking at the girls on their way from school.
It was the job that most boys get engaged in
as they get ready for their adolescent age sin.
The loveliest poem I ever wrote
was with almost a dozen couplets
my fingers sang, when they met yours -
the glimmer in your eyes said it all.