Have I lost the trait?
In flawless puritan gait?
When the mind sings the cliché tunes
Of lost forgone with its dews?
The forlorn leas in mystic creeks
Chants the ditty of the lost dips.
Do I need to wake in wonder galore?
To sing the jingle of the Holy shore?
Present croons the mystic wonder glee
Without its puritan numinous spree.
Through the history of mystic time
Spinning their mystery magic dime.
Some won, some lost, others forgotten
In aura of glowing light
Lost the focus of magical bright.
Lost in history over mystic time
Crave for power glory, money and shame
Sublimed in the mortal ‘peace heaven’.
Had they viewed the reality
Would’ve faced the stubborn certainty
Of those in disguise over cliché mundane.
Fruitful yaws with feelers in ferocious claws
The clank of power and fame.
Tucked neatly in frozen shelves
None for thy honour, thy name?
Lost in name, fame and shame.
The buzz of hard reality
Amid their deceitful calamity.
Sings the tune of today’s canto
To disperse the surplus stanza.
For a healthier tomorrow.
Spring, summer, autumn, plays it numinous tide
Of years found and lost in puritan wonder.
Time to peep in their magical splendour.