Hoping to shed city pain and strain
I wanted to let my sorrows drain
In a quaint little village miles away
I was in a thatched roof house to stay
On my arrival at the small train station
I had to start right away with innovation
Unable to carry my city style suitcase
I took donkey cart moving at a snail's pace
It was whack whack each time he slowed down
At first all I did was make a noise and frown
When the cracks of the whip became intolerable
I hopped off the cart and became rather voluble
The driver an old villager spoke in another tongue
He also seemed unfriendly and very highly strung
I could not make him understand my point of view
One does not whip an animal that generates revenue
Finally in sheer frustration I lifted my bag off the cart
Gave him the agreed fare and company we did part
He hollered some directions and rolled towards the stream
Left me struggling with my bag and withered village dream
