I saw her pouting
A fragile golden winged being
Sun has woken her up
And reported a theft.
He said the roses have stolen
The ruby of her lips
Sky has stolen
Crystal blue from her eyes.
Sunflower and daisies
Committed the sin
Took away a tiny bit
Of her lock’s gold.
She sat there pouting first
Then she laughed out loud
Laughing like a nightingale
She flew back to moon.
Writer sharmishtha basu
wild wind blows free
13 years ago
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