Sunday, July 15, 2012

In a Distant Land

No traffic beeps, no hawker call
No children hop around my yard
No neighbors comes to share their views
No knock on my door at mid-afternoon

In silence, I sit in a distant land
Where sounds are just some whistles in air
The ruffle of winds and swoosh of trees
Bounce up and down on waves at sea

Its only when in festival times
Chanting puncture serenity and chime
Tapping feet move from town to lanes
Waltz the town to burning debates

The natives dress in floral gowns
Full of jest, they dance around
Life breaks dream to come alive
Its time for birds to rests for a while.

The noisy parade breaks silence at sea
The town now dons a carnival treats

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