It is a shield
a shelter on the field
a tree standing high
where the monkeys fly
by the means of hop and a swing
they do that without wings
a chatter and a clatter heard
as they break the boughs with a dread
the leaves fall in a scatter
the flowers come down little later
the berries drop one by one
the monkeys come down with fun
collect the berries with cheer
cross the road without fear
munch the flesh and throw the nuts
with a force as they fall into the guts
away they climb up the tree once again
that be for a profit and a gain.
Meenas Poems 