Little Happy Things

The smallest, merriest things are they

Looking at you, I suppose

Your charm be equal to what words of play

A poem or a goofy prose!

That little squirrel pecking her tail

Slumbers as i look and laugh

I wonder how you changed my pale

When compared to my books you’re half!

I glare at the moon and its mangata

I’m assured like begets like

As it shaky curves upon the water

Draw a curve on my face as a smile!

The swirling wasps and swinging bee

Present a choir that I see

While my nearest neighbour, the ‘mosquito’

Won’t stop buzzing the chords to me!

The giggling tree consoles me

Happiness is but such small

Its ladder grows towards peace

Flourishing at the cusp of pall.

And even though nothing makes sense

Life and its troublesome caricature

But yet it will someday when you know

Only in bedlam is Nature…!!

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