With many vocables, He formed many locations.
Ah! His fervor, Danced above his peeper,
Like those teeny-weeny bubbles.
In the epistle,
Figures were few.
But a souvenir,
For his sister, he drew.
The words inscribed,
Were very sweet. And those emotions,
As vibrant as
The color of the beet.
He penned, Those adorbs jiffies.
Be it the Tongue-in-cheek tittle-tattle,
Or those brawls,
They couldn't settle.
Covering those boisterous times, He put his amassed emotions,
Like a poem with rhymes.
Yet! He never Posted the epistle,
Neither tied it With a sisal.
Sigh! He had no siblings,
Someone who would always, Stand as the healing.
Yet! The epistle
For his tacit sister, That he wrote, Floated!!!
Away from the horizon,
Like an anonymous boat.
Bishaldeep Kakati - a law student under Guwahati University. Apart from writing, he is also passionate about debating, cooking and playing table tennis. Recently he also acted as the editor for an international anthology 'Fire the Pyre'. Currently, he is also working as an editor with Poetry World Organization.