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 |    A book to house all my Poetic Explorations |
| What dream does a flower dreamt at night? Its face unveiled a tremendous fright. Did it witness the acts of an evil sprite? Or did pixies haunt it in their careless plight? It might be the fireflies that glowed overhead? Or did the hoot of night owls linger in its head? Perhaps the disturbing passage of the rats Or the screeching sound of a swarm of the bats. Maybe it is the billowing night breeze. Or it recalled its meeting with the bees. Perhaps the day's encounter with butterflies With huge spotted wings, unpleasing to its eyes. It might be the hassle brought by the rain. That washed away each tiny pollen grain. Raindrops trampled its petals to the ground. It grappled to breathe, still mudded and drowned. All these nuisance deprived a flower's sleep. I wondered if it also counts the sheep. Despite all of these, when came the morning sun It stood up with a smile to greet everyone. |
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