Note: This is my attempt at Prosetry after being inspired by JRSD's Post. If you are expecting any regular / proper poetry, you may stay away. People exposed to "poetry" may find this boring or even mildly amusing. Through narrow lanes, he rode his steed Its legs had constant company in his feet Everytime blood rushed to his head Green ambered and then shouted red Honkers go bonkers blazing sound Beggars, Hawkers and Peddlers fly around The din was no music to his ears Their wail no longer brought any tears And he waited and waited on his steed Its weight firm on his planted feet The blazing red went inviting green All the racer boys could be seen Vroom and vroom and vroom and vroom The drone that broke the din of gloom His eyes were wide, and lips had smile Even though, he knew, it was only for a mile And he raced his steed, and raced his steed Its galloping legs, had no company in his feet Zipping zapping, he rode and rode, He was experie...
art and science of rambling . . .