Hither-ward heart hither-most
Shall one be fool for he blames astrology
The burning sphere(A nomad milking a yak under peach tree)
Floating cotton like balls coated it hard and complete
Trials of lazy leaches taking inch a minute
Falling blue pine folded our upper limbs to earth
Lullaby heard a miles away
Dew drops on lemon grasses drenching brand new shoes
Flattering flags deceived the men on windy Lobesa
Quite and calm soaks the armpit and groin wet and dirty
Happiness over-weighed the fatigues
Smiles on triplet by fate
Local brewed alcohol spiced red and hard
Bhutaness of Bhutanese still alive
Friday,Fryday,Flyday...Flight-full Friday.
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