Yellow Vespa Under The Mango Tree

In stark contrast to the green of the mango tree,

He parks his yellow Vespa under it's shade,

Leans on it to sit,

And has the audacity to give me a smile,

That he knows will melt away all my anger,

I keep carrying,

For the world is a tragic and cruel place,

And there are so many things I need to scream about,

But he's there,

Leaning on his yellow Vespa,

Under the mango tree,

On a hot yet overcast June day,

While we all wait for the rain to cool down the Earth,

And he just waits for me to cool down,

As he climbs on the tree,

Ever so easily,

To pluck a rare, raw mango,

Still on the tree,

Knowing completely,

How this little fruit,

Will fascinate and distract me,

From all the things on my mind,

And give me some hope,

For a little bit of magic that still hides,

Up in some mango trees,

Under which a certain yellow Vespa stands,

On which a boy leans casually,

And smiles at a girl.

P.S.: Little does he know, that, his smile, does the major magical work on most days.