On the eighth day

On the eighth day,
The Lord awoke,
Stretched his mouth in a huge yawn,
Swept a lazy hand over his unruly beard,
And walked about aimlessly,
“Now,
How shall I occupy myself ?”

So he stretch out his hands,
towards the sky,
Rolled up his eyes
And thundered,
Let there be men,
And P-o-o-o-o-f
Went the toad stool
And then there was me.

-written on -
14-2-05
4.25 p.m


This poem is about ‘myths’. How many myths can you locate in the above lines!!.