Oo ! DeeDee

 Oo ! DeeDee

Oo! DeeDee, Oo! DeeDee 

Bawl many a yogi.

One so named,

Another self-proclaimed. 

"Look, look ! 

The steaming  summer cauldron,

With its hot dusty 'loo' 

streaming saffron preview .

A leg broken  

Eyes sunken

An implacable foe

How far can you go ? 

Many a loyalist

Became realist.

Took the unspoken bait.

To be our mate.

Oo! DeeDee 

Now's , your turn to be matey ! "

Eyes screwed,scowl on

DeeDee, barks 'we will see' 

'Jora Ghas Phul' 

Eyes the Bull.

Arora spews ire

Amit Shah gunfire

So much heat

For the flower to wilt.

Heat, Ire, and Thunder

Make me wonder,

Where truly lies, 

That gnawing ache,

The butterflies?

I know  only that in yogis

Ache of the butterflies

Leave no time to spare 

For Covid care. 

Now the 'Act of God' yogis declared-

Covid- its fangs are  bared

Break its sway

Butterflies will itself go away.