In vineyard, beneath vine tree <br />Two thieves would mutter in glee <br />There vines to all though were free <br />Vines in hands they would flee. <br />As much as possible they could steal <br />There watchman carolled though. <br />When the owner came to know, <br />Upon a bull the watchman would grill. <br /> <br />On a wintry morning they came in disguise <br />When the vineyard was beyond sheen <br />Or, vines in divine size <br />Summon'd the echoing green. <br />As much as possible they stole vines <br />And soar up their mind into skies. <br />Equally to a horse the watchman lies <br />Although none blamed upon bines. <br /> <br />More or ten minutes mistakenly past <br />Bang! Bang! -thieves sounded out of lee. <br />He, angry with the bull, did cast <br />Clods after clods, a bitter plea. <br />The beast grew up in wrath, flinging <br />Twice it's horns to frighten him <br />Hence, a black and tortuous stream <br />Was placed for him to live in!<br /><br />Pijush Biswas<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/watchman-4/
