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The Flute Seller
Oh! There he is with a flute in his hands
His fingers dancing over the holes on it
Playing an old Bollywood song
Hoping to earn a bit.
How petite his figure is!
But just the opposite is his skill
How effortlessly his fingers dance over the flute
As I peep from my window at the other flute he took.
His shoulders carry a massive basket
and how much I would love to have just one flute from his casket!
How much I would love to be able to possess the skill
Of performing a sweet ballet with my fingers on a beautifully engraved flute.
Oh! how wonderful and how enchanting!
How majestic and how tempting!
This desire flares up and just as quickly dies
As I look at the clock which ticked five.
Too much time daydreaming and nibbling fingers
Now worry about the exams whose fears lingers!
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This article has 5 comments.
This is a sweet little poem on a flute seller which comes to our neighbourhood in morning. I always fancied the little intstrument and wished to play it one day. But lo! I ended up dedicating a poem to it and that's why I love writing poems. Please read my other poems as well and I am open to corrections.