The tell-tale story I heard
was something unheard
a fictitious imagination
an irrelevant construction
which intends to take one far
but leaves one at the door ajar
stand we there in aghast
with our eyes firmly cast
not in a way down as thought
but high up in a sort
unbelievable we gape
incredible we exclaim
yet the tell- tale goes
in uninterrupted flows
we forget who we are
we grope in the dark
we loom there large
then spring up like a lark
run away in a barge
ahead from the glare
all the way from the stare
a right path to the realm of reality
greatly into the world of veracity.
imagination, gape, ajar, far,
Meenas Poems 