At Cafe Global

"Gutten morgen"
That sounded Germanic,
I looked up,

"Hey! Art thou Pamela?"
I asked,
But hath not She
Spake German?

Being a bit proficient in Sanskrit,
And only a few German words,
I was not sure, the forever uncertain me,
About matters of hearts,
Falls are there nearby,
I heard the murmur,
Through the glass door,
Opened by a fellow traveler,
The air conditioner left us,
Her and me and our poesy,

Water falls came in,
'Somewhat near, my name,
But what's in a name?'
She mumbled,
Her eyes,
Looked like literature,
"Shakespeare? A quote from Him?'
I asked her,
She looked at me,
Smiling beautifully,

'You are such a write!'
She blushed,

Her rosy cheeks,
Became rose like,
Thorns i had all
In me, to bleed,

I took a pen,
'I can gift you a pen, if so you wish,'
She spake,

'But Pamela?'
i asked, confused,

'But poesy?
Your proclamation?
She spake, not mincing words Her,

Only those words minced me,
My Soul,

'O Yes!'

I took another paper napkin,
Wrote a few lines,

She perhaps took it,
I smelt her fragrance
Of lavender,
And the cascades brought me,
More to the Cafe,
" such a beautiful World!"
i exclaimed.
"Such oneness!"
She said,

I looked at her eyes,
'Gutten morgen'
I said.


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