You will not be mine I know
But you are sometime with me
Only for these romantic spell of days
and night for the rain and rain and rain
In my heart’s nerve and nerve’s heart.
I know in my dire desolation you are standing
like an oasis amid the desert sand
You are not the mirage
I may not haunt mirage.
But this is the fiesta of my soul
Lingering like the last beacon of light
In my inner deep- frugal but joyous
Fleeting but exuberant –
The destiny of my poet’s creation.