now underneath the green umbrella
of the mango tree i shall sit, idle poet,

watch the lazy fingers of dusk
sketch dainty petals of crocus in the sky;

listen to the melodies of leaves
crisp and golden like husks in harmattan;

twiddle the fine-haired blades
of lemon grass thick and buoyant;

sniff the sea-balmy scent
of the late breezes dancing frolicsome,

free my mind of the tedious thoughts
of tomorrow's sundry sorrows and cares!