The Song of a bangle seller

The Song of a Bangle Seller

 He sings in all nights to his crying son

to sleep with smile and to forget his mother

Though he is a poor bangle seller

his  poem will be too high and luxury

There he compares his son as a prince of his empire and

he leaves his son with the angles to take care

Many plates of royal food  will be waiting for him but

his prince Plays with them to his fun

His princess will be from that heaven and

She will bring moon and stars as her gift to that life

River from the Himalayas will come

to wash his palace and his dishes

Rain will shower milk to  their bath and

Clouds will come to wipe his wet

Breeze will serve as his maiden to blow air

There his son will smile as Prince of the world

Sun will come and raise him from the bed and

Larks will play wakening notes to his wake up

There he stops his poem  and goes

to have his own meal from  his broken pot

He saw his sleeping son from that corner  and

Pleasingly went to his bed with peace