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BOTTLE-BRUSH

As lonely as a babul; but with its mysterious shape;

It stands by the pathway and looks disquiet;

So shy, its leaves droop down and look so snoopy,

To openly show its inhibition to the passersby.

Its reddish blossoms that look like bristles,

Seem to resemble a bottle-brush;

Oh!  It’s so lonely and finds itself out of place;

Then, why should it hang about in such an isolated place?

The bottle-palm that stands by, is so impatient by its look;

It inquisitively inquires as if the response would be instant;

But the bottle brush never bothers to answer,

And keeps its head down without a fuss.

The bottle-palm’s nerves get worked up then,

And quips, “Oh!  I am so sorry for bothering you.”

But, the bottle-brush says, “Don’t you worry, I know, you’re upright”.

But I reckon, I am too short and droopy to look around.

No matter what you are; for I am not bothered;

I’m just looking for my mates; for I see them not!

Nevertheless, I can’t show my nerves on you,

For I take you to be a great companion of mine.