by Vaishnavi Prakash
Shallow the aura..Drenched in deep flora..
Was not haunted.. Yet never wanted..
A wonder lies in front... A River...
Yet the thought of the castle; gives me a quiver.
Men pass by.. but the limits the grass nearby;
None dare to knock at the castle..
None care to flock at the rustle..
Now would you, why not.. give away this hustle..
The Moon flooded the river with its spark;
Yet it remained dudded by the shadows of the dark;
Or shud I say.. by the castle that fails to give the river its mark.
Once lived by legends and ladies, with..
No propositions, amends or wearies..
Duke to thy earth; Never saw another birth.
Seems so crystal.. amid another girth..
but Dutchess beamed.. yet to hear of the cream..
Heard him say .. never will there be another scream..
Oh yes!! Oh no!! With it comes the end of this realm.
Tulips and shrubs
Declined to creepers and clubs..
Was called the Heart Of Bluebell.. now was nothing
more than sheer Hell.
The Castle By The River, oh ...thus people tell.
The Castle By The River,yet bounded by a deep dark spell.
Last updated September 28, 2011