Saturday, June 17, 2000

Jimmy (For the never dying memory of Kuttan)

Seeing my decayed garden on the hill,
The fading memory sinks into the past still.

The mind flies away against my wish,
Leaving drops in the eyes that push.

The sod was decked with hue of yellow,
Where all eyes found always mellow.

A dale of butterflies all marvel,
Beneath the blossoms we travel.

That playful evening was very cute,
Except I and Jim it was mute.

Talking gossip mom and dad,
Toil of life not to drive them mad.

Playing with Jimmy was a wonder,
We went on as nothing to ponder.

A hissing made me conscious of around,
Looking for Jimmy not I found.

The rattling noise led me to a bush,
On peeping through I was made mash.

Hopping back I cried with no sound,
None to help me on the grassy mound.

To save Jimmy however I made a call,
Without hearing the dusk was to fall.

Dad rushed into as his best,
Mom did so as shadow in the east.

Jim came deserting the nibbled serpent,
With his wagging tail that kept quiescent.

The buds around got to sleep,
Only chill wind to witness in the deep.

To see nothing the sky folded his lid,
Lying in my hands Jim too did.

The memory of the bitten body is bright,
That gave me many days sleepless night.

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