The Wishing Well

With my back turned
I hurl stone after stone
Into the wishing well
Disturbing the frog's sleep
In its libidinous dreams.

My moon had fallen into the well
My pail could not bring it up
I continue to dropp stones
Someday the water will rise enough
To bring up my beautiful moon.

poem by Jagannath rao Adukuri
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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