A little child to her Mother said one day,
Let’s have something interesting to play.
A question a day I’d ask,
To reply within thirty seconds is your task.
Here came the questions from the apple of her eye,
On how milk tuned curd and blue colour of the sky.
Surprised and excited was the Mother’s feel,
At her darling daughter’s enormous zeal.
“Why do we have lines on our fingers and palm?”
Hearing this googly , she pondered in calm.
Time was up but a reply came:
“It depends on folding of hands in a particular frame.”
