Love for a yak

I dare not choose between beauty and brawn,

like between fish and hare there is silence,

not capering for win but lasting for a limp,

She was better off pink than blue as she matched,

the overcoat with sandals and roamed,

a little leap for lark could unsettle her and the dry fog,

as a pitcher for her I could swim in a swamp,

delicate crimson blue odoured nasty lost that,

matters for luck more than the lady could smile,

I hesitated and then was shy of open cab,

dust the storm and seek revenge on Gods?

It’s a lie nonetheless love and she kneaded the dough,

making me think chessboard is for the gamers,

till I heard her singing and it was a melancholic  tune,

for the town when everyone sold,

love to the lord and honed a concert for God!

In the Amen Love is what is to be.




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