Sunday, 12 September 2010

A CRUMB OF THE MOON


I woke up in the middle of one night hallucinating a patch of silvery light on my bedroom floor. I thought it was a sliver of moonbeam and was about to stand on it and feel its cool crystal sheen when my hypnotic spell got a severe jolt. From where could this light have possibly streaked in when all the doors and windows were tight shut and the AC was working full blast. I looked hard and realized it was pitch dark everywhere - the floor, the bed, the walls, the doors and the windows. I rubbed my eyes once more and pinched myself hard and ouched loudly and knew that I was fully awake. Then wherefrom did that silver light slither in? Was all of it my imagination?Or..............I still don't have the answer. But out came the diary, the pen and my hands itched into writing this wicked little verse in impish vein

In the middle of one night
I woke up to find
A crumb of the moon
Inside my very room
Lazing on the floor

The windows I had locked
Pulling the drapes I had blocked
The creeks and crevices
The genesis of all vices
And latched tightly the door

But still she strode in
With a wicked little grin
And fell on my feet
A spread of silvery sheen
As though in meek implore

I asked her "what do you want?"
She said "I want to stay on"
I exclaimed in pure jest,
"But you are just the night's guest!
As the sun wakes up from the East
I shall hear your running feet"

She said with a wan smile
"Let me stay here for a while"
I said. "Oh sure! Why not?
Let's tie a promise knot
I shan't sleep a wink
Nor will you slither down the brink
Of the windows or out' the door"

She tied the promise knot
And said, "No, I'll not
Ever leave you alone"
From that very day she's mine
Lurks in my room, a benign
Ray of hope, and gloom
She brooms with the brush
Of her crystal moonshine
Every night she glows atop
And as the day pops
Up, she out' the sky hops
And strides into my room, for sure

Of course she's mine
The temptress virgin, divine
With a wisp of an impish smile
She knows well how to beguile
My weakling of a heart impure.

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