My Umbrella (79)

(79) My Umbrella
My umbrella shrinks and flies away,
unable to withstand the stormy wind,
as would a thief escape the claws of police,
my adamant hand clings to balance the black protector,
yet the protector is protracted by a more forcible force:
the dark colour dances to a pathless way,
boldly combats the ruling kite , kisses rustling leaves ,
runs to a corner to be confronted by a tree,
The protesting kite gets torn, adamantly waves,
waves to rule the sky , the tree seems to be an asylum
to this refuge, like a lizard hanging up the branches,
the freedom is curbed, curbed and controlled!