THE ROOT OF ALL TREASURE.

I sat under a Vine Maple,

with my mind swinging like a cradle.

Ruminating about the day that I'd rued;

which sorrow made it a lot more sued.

I crunched my feet on the yellow leaves;

I don't know what sort of pleasure it gives.

Autumn air nipped my skin;

while I permit my pessimistic thoughts win.

There came a man, tall and brown.

And sat on lopsided bench which made me frown.

His nose buried in a book;

whose cover I took a look.

I sighed deeply and looked away;

only to feel his eyes looking my way.

"Entities are just like these lopsided benches,

where one end is good and the other end twitches.

But remember, smile through the pain;

and all through the pleasure,

smile is the root of all the treasure." He said and sauntered away.

- ALANKRUTHA M