Angsana Tree

O great Muse of sensual


How have you influenced

My world of art

The way you send me

Subliminal prompts

Every night

Be it dream or wake

In a daze of creative mood

When you provoke me

Like a seductive Circe

Transferring your sinewy

Gyrating moves

In a heated dance into

My own stirring body

That will rove with you

In unison of flesh and

White blood.

Our dream has once


Then it crashed down the

Acropolis’ abyss

And it lies below the

Acacia and angsana trees

Since 180 moons –

Courtyard of Herodes Atticus





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