My story

        THE TALE OF CUSTARD THE DRAGON  #part2........  B elinda paled, and she cried Help! Help! But Mustard fled with a terrified yelp, Ink trickled down to the bottom of the household, And little mouse Blink strategically mouseholed. But up jumped Custard, snorting like an engine Clashed his tail like irons in a dungeon, With a clatter and a clank and a jangling squirm, He went at the pirate like a robin at a worm. the pirate gaped at Belinda's dragon, And gulped some grog from his pocket flagon, He fired two bullets, but they didn't hit, And Custard gobbled him, every bit. Belinda embraced him, Mustard Licked him, No one mourned for the pirate victim. Ink and Blink In glee did gyrate Around the dragon that ate the pirate. But presently up spoke little dog Mustard, I'd have been twice as brave if I hadn't been flustered. And up spoke Ink and up spoke Blink, We'd have been three times as brave, we think, And Custard said, I...

        THE TALE OF CUSTARD THE DRAGON  (#PART 1) B elinda lived in a little white house With a little black kitten and a little grey mouse, And a little yellow dog and a little red wagon, And a realio, trulio, little pet dragon. Now the name of the little black kitten was Ink,  And the little grey mouse, she called him Blink, And the little yellow dog was sharp as Mustard. But the dragon was a coward, and she called him Custard. Custard the dragon had big sharp teeth,  And spikes on top of him and scales underneath. Mouth like a fireplace, chimney for a nose,  And realio, trulio daggers on his toes.  Belinda was as brave as a barrel full of bears,  And Ink and Blink chased lions down the stairs, Mustard was as brave as a tiger in a rage,  But Custard cried for a nice safe cage. Belinda tickled him, she tickled him unmerciful, Ink, Blink and Mustard, they rudely called him Percival, ...

                                      Poetry                     An Evening wet with Rain An evening wet with rain As i walk through the lane The heart beckons the hands to hold them with love The mind also knows subtle signals of the breeze Should i stand on the ground or waft with the wind Windows, doors, awnings of the house are wet Cool breezes stir the leaves of the yonder banyan tree The collar of my coat is also wet with drops of rain All around reigns silence My feet are cold with water seeping through my shoes My eyes are heavy with sleep, or is it fever? The ground is very slippery; there is no place to stand. The mind is exhausted, looks for some spot to rest. Loss of hope has darkened the evening of my life too And clouds gathering in the mind shed tears as they pass The evening of trouble, my companion, is ...