by adhip ghosh
I met an old man on my rugged way,
About whom this is what do people say-
That he has gone estranged because of age,
Though ago he had had Time in his cage,
Carried across, lands, deserts, seas and bays.
Wrote he chronicles of cheers, tears, alike,
As if they were the two wheels of a bike,
The two musts for the latter's speed and hike.
Now he's old and weak, decayed in the cold
Of December when all wait to behold
The birth of a New Baby in this hope
That It'll herald a brighter, redder sun,
That would clasp for all the better and shun
All that imprison Man in a tight rope.
Where are you now three ?
In your parental home free
From all domestic chores ,
Or pinned to them in scores,
In your U S # where they come in hordes ?
Where'er you be,
It's nice you remember me,
Accept my New Year Wishes,
And pass them in slices
To all whom you posses endear...