The ghats,grey serpents in green thickets
cool and moist, dampens restless midgets
There ,in a hotel ,in the lushness of the tropic's crown
are trees mighty tall with neat flights of stairs hanging down.
stood perched on trees, a cabin each of uneven logs
with wooden planks hand-polished to parqueted floors
A large cypress cot,an inviting bed ,the sensuous Umrao-Jaan
on canvas overhead, glowing in hues from a crystal pan
white porcelain figures, lovers dancing on mantle;love lounges,
windows open to wild flora , a few ripe mangoes hanging in bunches
On the rails ruddy jasmine vines flaunt little white stars
antique bamboo lanterns at the door , happy to be ajar
warm aroma from oils of wild-herb toiletries exude
wanting a trickle on the heated hearts' pursuit
cute candles whispers roses and jasmine in the air
nothing more, the imp of the mind feasts on love in the air.
on the small balcony , the cool breeze of the underwoods caress
In this tree-house,bask in nature...at its best to soothe five senses.