when a woodpecker <br />pecks at a hollow stem <br />his pains may be prized <br />or may just go in vain <br /> <br />the sky never wears a dark finery <br />of thick fleece of floating clouds <br />just to entertain an eager peacock <br />who`s dying to spread out the proud beauty <br /> <br />dead men never tell tales <br />but living voice stirs them in the graves <br />they die to let others live <br />all the years they would miss <br /> <br />hard to overhaul pig-headed undoings <br />yet like a bolt from the blue <br />one may hit the long desired jackpot <br />long before they kick the cursed bucket<br /><br />PARTHA SARATHI PAUL<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/weavers-too-look-at-the-sky/
