writings
Sometimes a way to pass time, Sometimes a way to kill it!
Friday, January 13, 2012
Chirruping bird
Chirruping bird,
Chirruping bird.
You sing with the buzzing bee.
Like, no other song I like,
You sing your melody.
Chirruping bird,
Your heart is sweet.
Your throat is made of harp-
Woven from the softest silk.
It tears darkness apart!
-- Mohan
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