Feeble pulses, electric impulses in my brain,
Subtle excitement, rapid advancement, like a train,
Coolness and dampness, droplets of laughter in the rain,
Heart-beats are racing, love-birds are kissing; maybe its love again!
Church Bells are pealing, the pilgrims are kneeling;
praying hard…
You are a minstrel roaming the valley;
I`m a Bard.
The sounds of the Organ, the bulbs filled with Argon; they delight me.
Your flowery attire and taste for satire fills me with glee…
Run down the mountain, right to the fountain of life.
Roll in the green-grass free from the brown dust called Strife,
Wave out to the Shepperd, GROWL at the leopard; stay alive!!
Ring on your finger,will you in NOVEMBER, be my wife??
Wonder what went wrong was it a sad song I sang?
Tears in your eyes flowed, crimson your cheeks glowed, my ma`am.
Past deeds forgotten, anew bell in autumn you rang!!
Hope that this trust grows, hope that your heart knows,
……………Maybe its love again!
