Little Boys On The Riverbank.
The boys were there again
Soft grey mud blanketed their brown
beating chest. Gingerly they explored the riverbank.
A rotting plank here, a broken branch there
Their bare tracks soon filled with brackish water.
Mudskippers scurried, little crabs dived
Into the abyss, no time to spare
Rotting smell of palm branches oozes
Sweet fragrance to my nose.
Little creatures sang swishing sounds
As they stayed away from the boys.
from afar they eyed each other.
Soon, these boys will be man.
Like other man, they’ll interfere
with the creatures’s paradise.