Page 16 - Musings 2020
P. 16
The Mountain’s Girl
Adil Khan 2016A4PS0221P
The girl lived up on the mountain top.
Her hut hid in those dark green trees,
Where rabbits dwell, and frogs do hop,
And songs are sung by humming bees.
Her cheeks, untouched, and apple red.
Her eyes, brown, pretty, hazelnut.
Her hair, as soft as feather bed,
And brown, as brown as her little hut.
She'd wake up and run out to play,
With squirrels, kittens, birds and does.
Their ground was golden fields of hay,
And dew would shine on buds of rose.
She lived where no man would tread.
The wood her friend. Her family, the wood.
Nature, the only book she read.
And learnt from her all she could.
The vernal wood, her only sir.
Her only school, her kingdom too.
The chiding stream would talk to her,
As it shone in fifty shades of blue.
And she'd sit down to play her flute.
The whistling wind, the bees that moan,
The chirping birds, would all turn mute.
Lonely was her song, she sang alone.
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