Buzzing with insects & blooming fruits
Each word a whirlwind on my knees
As I try to make it rhyme with bees
Half-listening to teacher's voice on rules & feuds
I write a poem under the tree
Scribbling in long strokes, black as tea
I ignore birds calling our secret names, hued
Like buzzing insects and fruits blooming
I count bleating of nearby goat herd
While sun mercilessly dry our throats
As I write a poem about this tree
Gnarled with thick torso like manatee
Unbowed by storm, this tree's our school (a hoot)
Buzzing with insects & falling fruits
Chucking our heads, when our eyes flee
To distant train puffs & sky goosed by jet's clouds
This poem is written under our tree
Buzzing with insects & blooming fruits
Picture credit: here
Posted for: D'verse Poets Pub - Hosted by Gabriella ~ I took a different approach to "going back to school" specially for poorer countries ~ Thanks for your visit ~
