The Master of my spirit

Lies somwhere high and dry        

       in this globe laden with green,

 the Master of my spirit

                  uncased yet unheard, unseen.

Its a boulevard to my dreams

                  the muse of my sketches on zing,

the message of my songs of verve,

                  my thought pendulum's buoyant swing.

It plays truant and seeks recourse

                   in hovels amply clad with squalor

in odd nooks that stench of scum ,

                   in  chateaus richly frilled with pallor .

Like a shore serenading a cove,

                   I nurture ,a peppy urge within.

To rend someday,that blissful trove

                   afore the end gets to begin.

My quest shall garner steam

                 my vows from the past stay rife.

Until the dusk that'd bring my fall,

                 I will carry on with the tryst of life.