Immortal rainbow, oh, so high!
With paper, and wicker, a Kite-maker
Built heaven’s bridge, from earth, to sky
Yet, beyond his, lame lad’s, endeavor!

When the, urchins came, to his, rickety shop
Began naïve, discourse, of disdain
“We’ll shove, you down, the mountaintop
To lend, your kite, a flight insane!”

“You sell, them joys, who do, not care
Who cares, is left, bereft of, a dream!”
“My Dearest! ‘On a wing, and a prayer’
The zenith, is yours, for to redeem!”

The stormiest day, it was, of fall
O’er father, awed at, his paper toy
Was it, chutzpah’s call, or a, sheer windfall
His dream, heaved to, heaven’s high, Kitemaker’s Boy!

© 2019 Vikas Chandra