Wool-Gul-Hyla

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Siddhartha:

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"O Go Dada, have u heard?

talk such foolish and absurd?

GPS says out of wool?

We don't like such scary Gul!!!"

He must write and tell us all

Stories Fat and wide and Tall

When and What and Who and Why

of Cows that sing and Pigs that Fly

If rest he needs then so he must

and then the tales will come,

that hook us on and quench our thirst

Aur Khush Ho jayein Hum!!!

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Aniket:

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By June our brook's run out of song and speed.
Sought for much after that, it will be found
Either to have gone groping underground
(And taken with it all the Hyla breed
That shouted in the mist a month ago,
Like ghost of sleigh-bells in a ghost of snow) -
Or flourished and come up in jewel-weed,
Weak foliage that is blown upon and bent
Even against the way its waters went.
Its bed is left a faded paper sheet
Of dead leaves stuck together by the heat -
A brook to none but who remember long.
This as it will be seen is other far
Than with brooks taken otherwhere in song.
We love the things we love for what they are.

- Robert Frost




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