Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Poem 118 - Out in my garden


In the garden, letting the breeze pass on my face
The wind, seemed to be running, running in a race
Fruits on the trees, looked mellow
Hanging on the tree, was the Mango now Yellow

My dog ran up to me, It's neck I did tickle
I gave it a bit of my Popsicle
It chewed on, the evening went by
The sun had now set, the moon was up high
-Gaurang Rao


5 comments:

  1. A charming poem. I can't imagine a dog eating a popsicle; but come to think of it, I once had a cat that enjoyed raw onion.

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