Categories
thoughts

Too Many Cooks


Too many cooks

there are in  a kitchen

spoil the broth

Categories
Actions Beauty Duty Poem

Dance And After.


The peacock went up the hill in search of prey.
The peahen was preparing a broth in a pot of clay.
The peacock came dancing through the gateway.
Swinging this side and that side as if in a sway.

The peahen looked at the dance.
Excited it fell into a trance.
Waking up cast a glance.
Lo! the broth was burnt beyond chance.

peacock dance