The Butterfly and the Rose

He hurried down the hill, the playful butterfly,

Thirsting for his queen, the morning rose;

She turned her face, shunned the fickle lover,

The rose;

Fluttered the butterfly closer,

Tenderly to woo the rose,

Beg for mercy,

To caress once more her silken blossom,

Languorously to cradle in her folds;

Aloof she stood in the rising sun, the rose;

In the vanity of her solitude,

Frigid, in the pervasive warmth that arose,

Naked, deceived and betrayed,

Indignant by the deep humiliation,

The Queen of flowers, the rose!

Her magnificent crimson petals, she had shed,

Her strong, splendid green leaves had fallen,

Her sharp, shielding thorns were gone,

Lost in the wilderness her alluring perfume;

One time the butterfly stroke her,

Forever he touched her soul!

Anita Bacha

http://poetryofanitabacha.com/

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THE MANGO SEASON

I think of you all the time,

But I think of you more in the mango season;
I think of you when I eat ripe mangoes,
Peeled with a sharp knife,
Sliced, mixed with raw sea salt and fresh red chilies,
Like you eat ripe mangoes in Ceylon;

I think of your visit every mango season,
My thrill when you arrived at the airport,
The unleashed love in your hugs,
The gifts of delicacies and fine lingerie,
And you, my obsession,
And your panic attacks, your bouts of depression,
Your tears and your snorts;
I’d cook for you, I’d brew your tea, and I’d warm water for your bath,
I was so overwhelmed to have you in the mango season,
Every ripe mango was a feast too juicy,
Every moment, an eternity,
A promise of unbound happiness,
Counting the days deemed pointless;

When you confessed your love for my best friend,
The mango season crashed to an end,
We’d roll over the top of mango trees,
We’d swim in a punch of thick, sticky mango sap,
We’d come out naked and sad,
As you walked away from me, my hand you forego,
I loved you so much; I had to let you go;

I wait for the mango season every year,
I wait for memories that linger,
For ripe mangoes as sweet as love and petting,
Added salt and chili sarcastically begetting
Grief and pain,
Corollaries of an amorous adventure again
Anita Bacha

http://poetryofanitabacha.com/