And his mother who could not say projapati...
She fluttered around, boring, bland and brown,
others paraded, proud of their spectacular gown,
we chased, we raced, we paced around,
somewhere in that terribly big blaaterfly town,
(we must have looked like we belonged to the clan of a clown)
we barely saw the one who was oh so busy and brown,
until she began sipping at the dirt in something coiled that sat down,
no, her mother did not frown,
she was still, drank hungrily, opened her wings so quietly,
we held our breath...
an unmatched blue we have never dived into.
gosh, I so badly want to go back to that blaaterfly town,
but they tell me its NOT blaaterfly, and there is no such town.