After our poems are written
We expect kismet to save us
From a boredom’s perdition.

We are too full of a waiting.
By our kismet we will travel
And be borne along on  air.

Or we travel in a palanquin
With bride and groom in air
While the bearers will shout

Ko Ho Ko Ho as in folk song
Coming straight from heart.
Beauty falls in love’s kismet.

Palanquin goes up and down
Borne along, sways to wind
Like flower in summer sky.

We tremble as paper petals
To every breeze that passes,
Embrace kismet to be safe.

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