Sunday Poem By The Pheasant of Joy(Vasu)

Sunday Poem By The Pheasant of Joy(Vasu)

Upbeat

You might not see the morning You might not wail for late rise People hardly know you rise late People hardly growl your bumming You might have thought you can't You might have grimaced calmness Fresh morn's tender palfrey gnaws Masked faces pass away sans sound Falls do not dent the universe usually But sure they leave you debilitating You sadly gaze on the onerous activity Mutter your inability to tryst the morn With invigorating upbeat and will power Could only salvage you from drooping Chinning up is a gateway to building A robust day given your unfailing joy.