Tuesday, April 11, 2017

A Beer song

Statutory warning: Drinking they say is injurious to "Your" health (not mine) People in their right senses not to read this poem.


Hic-a-one, hic-a-two, hic-a-three,
No, hic-a-four, I plea,
Stop, stop, stop, I feel so light,
A belly in my fire, and I dance with delight.

Tap-a-tap-a-tap, I laugh with glee,
Bu-aha-aha-ha-ha-oha-ha, wild and free.
There's a belly in my fire still,
Dancing to its own whimsical will.

I plead to the girl in polka dots ,
To help me arrange these words in rhyme.
She smiles, her dress swirls, 
and she says with a grin,
"I'm tipsy, and your words are spinning within."

And then I see, my belly's in the fire,
But where does it fit?
 I'm lost in desire.
Ah-whistles-whistles-whistles-ah,
 I hear a bear,
In the beer, 
it says, "Hic-a-hic, without a care."

A chic chick joins, 
and we're a merry pair,
Hic-a-hic, hic, hic, hic, 
without a single snare.

Oops, I'll come back tomorrow,
 to craft my lines,
For now,
 I'm just hic-a-hic, in rhyme's sweet shrines.


Copyright @ Ajay Pai  4th April 2017
Image courtesy - AJ's personal collection

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