The Evening

His fingers run through the book slops,

A bookworm in between...

The place where the food shops,

A hungry stomach’s cream...        

He looks around the sea shore,

The lighthouse is a queen...

A sky is where the clouds pour,

His moon shines where its seen...

In the sand where the snail snores,

No cobwebs in a seam..

For kites the tragic wind roars,

How dead could be a dream?

A fountain’s where the lights glow,

He watched as it breathes...

The flight of her water flow,

A Smile less as he recedes...

In a garden where the fruits grow,

A place across the sea...

The sand in an eyebrow,

And thus the princess had a pea...