SONNET NO 11 (A Sonnet is a poem of fourteen lines)

When the breeze blows near your door,
And the temple bells ring,
You see the flowers bowing so low,
And the pretty birds sing,

Devotees bow and go round and round,
With flowers sweets and grass,
They cannot pray without loud sound,
And their vessels made of brass,

It's always after a bath they come,
To shout out loud in prayer,
And after worship away they run,
Because the next one's there,

                                                                                    This is what you can expect to see,
                                                                                     When at LIME VILLA you will be.