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I Traveled Once by a Spare-bus!
I traveled once by a spare-bus;
It was from my grand-mother’s house;
I was in hurry and therefore,
I boarded the bus, my college to go.
The seats looked ripped and so much torn;
The old-bus’ body’s bad weld shown;
The iron frame-work shocked to touch;
The window’s glass looked cracked so much;
Without good lights, the bus was dark;
Across the road came dogs to bark;
The diesel-engine’s cranky noise,
Drowned the passengers’ loudest voice.
The cassette played a hoarse, dull song;
All had to listen to the gong;
The conductor, a man quite stout,
‘Tickets, tickets, ’ he began to shout.
While the bus sped up curved roads,
The golden moon too sailed thro’ clouds;
And when it rained, the water came,
Thro’ windows, roof- Oh, what a shame!
Despite all shutters downed (half-torn) ,
The bus was almost flooded soon;
The driver drove the bus so fast,
And soon, we were amidst the ghats.
My body was in severe pain,
For hours, it was a torrential rain;
The driver honked: a dog had crossed!
The bus came to a halt and paused.
The bus was stopped by an old cop;
And very late, I reached my stop;
‘Oh, What a journey! ’ I then thought,
My travel by a spare-bus brought!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-25-2006
poem
by
John Celes
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