Angelina and Her Swain

Neglecting the sun-rays She comes here each day Approaches to see the rabbit hole, Ignoring the fear of animals As her swain once committed her, He will come here to meet her again. Flowers emaciated, Trees withered, Following the cursed- strong storm; Cascades are no more watering, Still drought can’t lock her in, Birds don’t fly now in this sky; But rainbows reminds her of him Counting the seven colors, She knits her trance that The prince will emerge yet again. That day he came on unicorn, While sleeping soundly on her mom’s lap, A bouquet of flower, box of love candies, He said, he loves and would love her forever; Angelina, now knitting a sweater thinks... What would match him more? A maroon? No...Blue, nope it should be crimson Hence their love is forever, yet a lot to endeavor, Entering to the wood, she asks the woodcutter, ‘Have you seen my prince today?’ Negatively answers regularly the woodcutter, But Angelina counts her days till the date. The pitcher of her waist, she keeps with her She thinks he (Prince) must be thirsting, When the unicorn flies, thirstily the price almost dies, But seldom has he got a moment to stop, The well became dry; the time keeps on flying, The prince never comes here to stop. At last the pigeon comes, delivering the letter The prince once died by the encounter.