Now, the fountains are dry
The hills claim upon Summer
- Lest, all daffodils cry
For a draught, to be fancy dreamer.

Amid them casually I wander
- To seek their beauty.
It seems, none but a plunderer
Wanted them lie, pity.

Neither they awake nor sleepy
My hands try them to touch
- Oh! all daffodils are floppy;
And realize, it was too much.

So I make a unique plan
To see upright their bowing head
- So I do sprinkle water main
And tread them with light tread.

Hence, I pray to Heaven for rain
To give forth life to their lives
Or, impulse the bees to obtain
Honey, for their hives.

Even, the Heaven is proud of it!
Even so responsible alike-
Continuous rain, at least
Make the weakening day meek.

So hills, fountains, daffodils, bees
All, that night, come in my dream
To say-'O dear, let us never miss
To be in your magical whim.'


[Published in his self-published book "Some Suitable Words", in 2018]