The Amplest

The Amplest



Being totally blessed that morn,
Hooked on my violin to adorn,
Gayous were all on the street when sun had just born;
Some stared at me with the eyes of lorn.

It was the huge edifice;
People were as if in disguise,
Spread all over on chaise;
Dread in everyone’s face and worth none to praise.

Dais was occupied and the performers began in a ho hum;
Tied were the spectators and I could smell them turn ransom,
They neither wanted noir nor a choir:

I was on stage to fiddle all good music in ma head,
Had to erode them to giggle or else I was dead;
Hands duressed on the fido,
Becalmed, abut and slumbered,
But found strings outnumbered.

Somehow I could grab a lampoon-
- from my four chambered aortic pump,
Desired for this kind of slump,
Or atleast to console myself when she was supposed to dump.

Retrieving the thirst of lust,
I Straded The Serene in gust!
Resulting the storming crowd to bust.

Could hear some silly old men-
-puffing in the corner of the den
Saying “that was the best jest in zest”
Hurraying me for passing in this kindof test,
Memoired forever placidly in Me, She and the Rest J

Quavering Poet
20th November ‘08
iquaver@gmail.com