USA

bdhriti@hotmail.com

The Puzzle

You take hold of a string
And give it a thinking tug
First this way, then that,
And you peep into the knots
And try to pry them open
You see them getting stuck
The more you try your luck
Then tired you leave it all
And let your hands fall
In despair and agony
Of fallen dreams tall.
Then in comes a breeze
Of fresh air, to tease
Your ruffling hair.
The knots of the puzzle
Swing in the wind,
Then the wind 
Becomes a storm
The storm a gale,
And breaks the knots
And the strings that made them.
And fallen at your feet,
The puzzle and its parts
Need no longer be solved.

All Rights Reserved. Printed By Permission.