Thursday, January 04, 2007

Thirsty

Droplets of fresh morning dew
Trickling down the leaves
And I tried to fill my pot.
Years of wait, my pot filled
And I run to drink it all.
But Alas! This pot now stinks
Stale and rotten, deathbed of insects
All the freshness gone.
And I bewildered, left thirsty for more.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

There is thrill only in the chase... :) aint it?