Posted:
She looked a dish
And that too in pink
Just to shut your eyes and wish
Will appear a royal drink
Called faluda by all
In a glass tall
Then was the dance
Was it from Africa or France
Her dress was no chance
It was like an exotic fruit
Made to the mood to suit
She was in mode surrender
He turned to become a defender
Of his own emotions and passions
And gave of them only in ration
Then the sky burst and the storm grew
Raman' well guarded defences flew
And in amidst the rain and song
He confessed his feelings which he had kept long
A straight from the heart confession
And no nokjhok in this session
Cricket
CID
2