The Imp-Man

This blog is for the convenience of the friend for whom I wrote this poem. The goat that he is, he doesn’t have the copy I gifted him. The poem was written a few years ago.

As I said in one of my previous blogs, friends are of different kinds. They touch our lives in different ways; what is undeniable though is that they inevitably touch our life.

This goat is one such friend. He’s been not just a friend but a guide and mentor too. He’s the one I can share my deepest problems with. He’s the one who’s helped me walk when I thought I couldn’t even stand. He helped me back on my feet and guided me back on track. He’s managed to make me laugh when all I could do was weep. He’s encouraged me to be the best when all I thought I could do was manage. He’s been my teacher and taught me far beyond books. He has cared and dared to show. He’s made time for me when actually he had none. He’s opened my mind to a whole new perspective to life. He’s given me vision when all I had was sight.

Once again, this one’s for you, you Goat!


The Imp-man

A child at heart
An imp by nature
With behaviour most incorrigible
Knowing not what he’ll do next
Definitely drives me haywire.

With twinkling eyes
And a naughty smile
He pulls my legs no end
Driving me crazy, getting me tizzy
He does with sleight of hand.

Careless chatter
Merry banter
He listens without complaining
His listening ear, his joyful cheer
Is enough to lift me when brooding.

Merry songs
Skylarking stunts
The antics of a rogue
Of all the naughty things he says and does
The snide remarks I abhor!

At times he’s most exasperating
With his mischievous ways
Setting no limit
Keeping no time
In his many escapades.

And though it may seem
Like I’m complaining
It simply isn’t true
For in his crookish, impish ways
I’ve found a friend so true.


- Rukma