Red guavas fall,
From trees all around us,
And land, victoriously, on the island of our palms,
A soft cushion, paler than the cracked pavement.

Give me a guava or two,
Let’s juggle, one at a time,
Right to left,
One fell, pick it up! C’mon!
Hand me a guava,
I will count them,
I will ensure you taste one,
That our teeth grind them,
With the delicacy of a tropical breeze.

Climb up the guava tree,
I'm already reaching for a pair,
Our mouths are full, there is guava on my lips,
On her lips,
On his lips,
On our lips, “may I help you?”

NO TRESPASSING,
Said a sign on the fence,
“Too late,” you said,
NO MORE GUAVA.