MY
KEEPS
I’ve many a keep.
Who make me pry deep,
Tease me with their
looks:
They are the paged
books.
They pull into them
And soon keep me mum.
They bare their bosoms
Like dewy blossoms;
Well set in my lap,
Let me suck their sap
That works as poppy:
Makes
me much happy.
Desire rich they cause
To clasp them sans
pause;
Keep me out of sin
Away the world’s din;
Put me out of blight
And show the real ‘Light’.
–Dr. K. V. S. MURTI