A piquant thought nudges me-
As to
Why words topple into me
When the clocks tick midnightwards.
Perhaps they’re tired of hanging out of reach
And think I might just not notice
As they slither down the thought strings?
And so with eyes dry drowned in midnight oil
I grab them, before they squirm out of reach!
Only to array them before me
And wonder, suddenly, where all the magic did go
I should have left them be.
Sigh.
28 February, 2012
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words
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The magician cannot always see
the ectent of his audiences' glee
though you feel you should've let them free
to be worded by you is what they were meant to be.
Sigh (of ecstasy). :)
Ah! Magic has it's way
Once it has brought in your say :)
Govind, I thank you, yet again, this day,
For faith, and your appreciation which makes me go Yayyy!
Another write's been rewarded today!
Thank you Govind. Most of all for that sigh. :)