The Little girl with long tresses

Can you see that house in grey?

Yes the second one in the alley,

The one lodging the big banyan tree

That’s her house, housing her reveries

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The house of the little girl of four

No, not four years but she’s tall feet four

You wonder why I refer her like that?

Yes I know, I must explain that

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So, this little girl has long hair

Lustrous, long, brown hair

Longer than what her body can behold

For she’s only six year old

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But she’s possessive of only one damn thing

Like Rapunzel, her striking, silky, long tresses

“Have my hair gotten any longer?”

Every morning she enquires her mother

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Her mother ties the five feet into a braid

Urging the little one to cut them straight

But the long hair is charm of the princess

She counts them every night with fairies

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“Will my hair grow longer than the roots of the tree?”

“How do I make them smell like sensuous jasmine?”

The little one lost herself in the tangles

And soon she turned into a gorgeous damsel

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Her tresses still longer than her moves and curves

She still enjoys counting her lovely curls

So if you find her mumbling in solitude

Shhh…Don’t disturb her, she’s reached the altitude

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