First Prize Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

I had to search for shepherd’s dress
As it was needed for fancy dress
Son had taken part in as milkman
I was total failure in finding dress man

No dress could be found
That puzzled me to go around
For dress as well as all belonging
I was in for wait and hanging

I noticed one little hut
It was protected and shut
I shouted for little help
The head came out him self

“I needed dress and utensils”
“To dress up son as shepherd”
He heard me patiently and replied
Sir, I have dress but dirty and can not be relied

I promised him to wash up again
And bring back after sometime
He was happy too to remind
You are always welcome to find

I was so much impressed
Here was kind man but remained
In state of gratefulness
I too bore so much thankfulness

The son won the first prize
There was so much joy and surprise
The hut man had done noble job
Else son would have been robbed from chance