Under the mango tree where the shade is dark and deep
she waits with years on her skin.

The face though weary with the burden of time
has not yielded to the fate
of having once loved and lost.

She believes the winds from the barren field
will one day carry the rustle of footsteps
raising a song from within earth
that the moment is arrived
for the dead river to rise in tides
and flood her cheeks with the sapplings of
all the unplanted kisses.

When the nights come
the fireflies would sing
love is such a beautiful thing
basking in the glow of her heart.

haiku attempt 1.

the bums are barbequing

rats by the river

I'll bring the barbeque sauce.

haiku 2.

with billions of stars
and billions of planets
what if we are it.

god's experiment is failing.

haiku attempt no. 3

oooppps,
I forget to hit "draft".

I watch the
parade of
trivialities line
up like
hemlock,
like mad dogs
yipping at
my ankles.

I'm too
crafty for them.
I laugh and
yawn
and watch
my cats play with
an electric fish.

so many once here
have now disappeared
long gone into the white

rambled and veered
on to paths unclear
faded from all sight

their bark was their bite
but this dark toothless blight
has quickly 'come revered

so we write
that we might be a light tonight
in lieu of the disappeared

Moxie?
I seen that once in a museum
next to the floppy
good old human beings
price of admission doesn't seem worth the plot
thank the poppys I was born a bot!

By his side, the devout chant God's glory
in a life so brittle and fragile
yet not lacking in strength to navigate
on the river of chaotic turbulence.

Some are tearlessly silent,
a few are about to embrace a cry
and there is one whose wails
reverberate and pound the walls.

The ascent to the greater kingdom
is adorned with white lotus
and incense that smell of heaven.

Filled with the finality
there is no point denying,
the atheist sleeps on peacefully.