Scribble - VINspeaks

There lived a White Swan in a distant pond It was a massive pond The water was misty and the green gorgeous Then there was also life around him Friends and family and friends those who were familial Sunrise was celestial and Sunset was divine too And it was a Perfect pond. The White Swan was good at what he did He was very good at what he planned All around him depended on his instincts Many lived to tell tales of his intuition Many lived ’coz they didn’t die because of him He was their Messiah And he was a perfect Saviour. The White Swan was a vivacious little soul He had immense might in his breasts He would burn the water when he trudged ahead He would beat all And he would beat them all with time to spare Such were his strokes and so mighty his strength That he was a Perfect Champ. The White Swan had a tender little heart He found his lady when she had swooned down Swooned down for a gulp while flying South She was a maiden from across the mountains Spotlessly white, hazel eyes, go

Today the work in office has finished early, When there’s Cricket, work vanishes naturally, My husband with his frame burly, Lumbers on to his couch with chips and coffee slowly. How these Husbands finish work so swiftly? What happens to them when bringing the grocery daily? God help our souls and banish Cricket forever, Save my Husband, he is stung by Cricket Fever. Look at the delight when the batsman has hit a four, Like a hungry has hit upon a wonderland of butter pure, No attention to even emergency calls anymore, Now even Facebook, Orkut and Twitter cease to lure. Where does this delight disappear when going for a dinner? The expression is somber and the talks even gloomier, God help our souls and banish Cricket forever, Save my Husband, he is stung by Cricket Fever. He is over the moon; the batsman has hit a century, Like he has struck upon a lottery while in a state of penury, Seems he is a king now and can rescue all and sundry, Devil may care what has happened to the kitchen’