She Is coming to my rest chair
Today I sit
On my rest chair,
And the pretty face
Comes in the thin air;
The caring voice
and those tender touches,
I do await for all of Fancy’s clutches.
The day turned to an eve’s shade
Still, I hear not a knock,
I waited for her all day long
to my lame rest chair’s shock!
And as night slowly beguiles
Till all learns to pretend well,
She is gone
And
Shall again return, with a chocolate in hand, and a shoulder to lend.
By Arnab Mukhopadhyay on Chocolate Day
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