In
Kalimpong, once lived a drama,
A superbly
cute dimpled face lama.
To
everybody he was a saint
Who could
also sometimes paint.
But little
did anyone knew him more
Secretly
and cattily kung fu is what he adored.
Mischievously
and shyly once he posed,
While his
masters snoring dozed.
And then came
a day when his skills were finally exposed.
Out in the
open when he fought like a barracuda,
Gleaming in
orange and preening in yehuda.
Realizing
his calling was something else
His master
had witnessed the talents under his belts.
So just
like that, they bid him goodbye,
The Kungfu
lama had tears in his eyes.
But what
Mandarin had found in him,
Was a
little Kalimpong, buzzing with energy, up to the brim.
