Two small figures jumping around,
by Indranil Bit
My little untamed garden haze.
On new moon night and not a light,
They are out to fear the fright.
A howling is heard from distant par,
A creepy congress of untamed fear.
I silently wrap a bedsheet white,
And crawl on the garden floor.
Catch them both like a prey,
And levy their cry in fear n shy.
They were out to defy the ghosts,
And a ghost bigger catch them both.