Her name is Happiness

You never know from where a breeze would waltz in And when. In the sultry heat, When trees bend their heads, looking so forlorn And leaves curl (There is such sorrow in watching them) When street dogs scramble beneath shade And lie panting When clothes in the clothesline hang limp Like mourners of the dead - I - In the centre of the crossroads That extends to barren emptiness all around… I hear the flutter of fallen leaves at my feet And turn to look – The breeze comes up, smoking. It is raining somewhere far away. She comes, enwraps me in her shawl Smothers me with passion. She comes, Bringing me memories of innocence and irrepressible joy. She wears the fragrance of my forgotten youth.

Flickering their tongues Snakes sneak out from their holes, savouring the air.

The rain is coming nearer, nearer, it is almost here - I wait – With great love and tenderness in my heart I wait to see the flowers bloom.