A jumper I wore,
for I was going to London.
Many mocked at my
Still I heeded to that Calling.
I double checked all my
Rooms and locked,
For an established rumour
Ran, Gold was gushing
Out of every Godrej
and ornaments were
popping out of cupboards.
My eyes count but
Synthetic saris and silk woven
hanging on the dresser.
I was going to London,
For London was calling,
Calling and ask not
How, how, now.
I came to the balcony
to close the doors,
Again double check
lest any thief should
Plunder away all my gold.
How strange! Some droppings
On my jerkin, from the crow
above, bad omen?
No, no, it is a good augury,
Droppings only on my
Jumper, not my plan.
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Comments about this poem (Nonsense Droppings by Radhamani Sarma )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
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(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
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