He imagines
So many things
Cabbage and kings
Of shoes and ships
And with a wink
Easily slips
Poetic blips
Of the arcane
Rivers auburn
A mind insane
The odd bloodstain
Can sometimes scare
So he spins words
With utmost care
and takes me there
On crescent waves
Triumphant tales
From birth to grave
And each I save
I know their worth
It’s in his sphere
Of cosmic girth
Welkin and earth
The tales he’s had
And more to come
Verbal nomad
I call him Dad
And my hero
Household legend
But he does know
The seeds he sow
It’s my award
Gaze of rapture
He looks forward
To his reward
When it’s my turn
To tell such tales
Old or modern
Aubades, nocturnes
The moods I’ll bring
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Today’s Form? The Pathya Vat