The artist’s skilled hands,
Moved effortlessly through the scene,
Entwining the different shades,
Of red, blue and green.
There comes a tree,
With fair golden boughs,
Then came the men,
With their fantastic lores.
Down splashes the sea,
With a tremendous roar,
‘Ere comes the poacher,
Dead lies the boar.
There are myths, fantasies, tales and more,
Beasts, humans, creatures and gore.
There’s a door at the right,
With a cat standing behind.
There are 27 wolves, with teeth that smell,
There is the clock tower of London and a ching Chong bell!
Then with a wave and a flourish,
The artist is done,
With a smile and a nod,
He sits and sighs at the sun.
Vijayagiri views 