My Boy-Scout's Faith Poem by Aniruddha Pathak

The fun when settles to be passé,
And drums at last when cease to beat,
I race to wash, get back my face,
But bath mirror mocks at my feat.

Oh to play monkeys and lose face,
But never once the stiff spoil-sport,
Hiding somewhere on the terrace,
Why, anywhere in your safe fort.

But no, I've been a fair boy scout,
And better to mix, be merry,
Cosy with crowd than lose your clout,
But not run 'way from revelry.

But the mirror in bath me tells,
O better beware of your means,
Unless there be rivers and wells,
Store buckets of water to cleanse.

For, dry taps, no water to bathe,
O shaken has a boy scout's faith.
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Musings on the colour festival | 05.03.2017 |