Happiness is a Chilled Mango

 


 

 

 

 

 

 

 


Happiness is a  chill sliced mango,
I’m five, sweaty from the sun’s glow,
on a hot summer day,
who just rushed home from play,
to grab a drink, a top and a hat,
Mom, says “Charlie, I have treat, stop that,
stop fidgeting, sit at the table and wait,”
she set a yellow red orb on a plate,
which sweated and glistened with dew,
she sliced it and said “its for me and for you”
as I tasted it’s sweetness, my taste buds began to sing,
like windchimes in the wind so happily ring,
to this day a mango brings me great joy,
for it was the fruit I loved when I was a boy.