This world of illusion once made a play for Hafiz;
ogled, flattered, swung a sashay for Hafiz.
Beyond trinkets and tokens (obvious bribes), the
Inner Net chose rose bouquets for Hafiz.
He’s found that Street, coaxed in by wine. The Tavern
door slams! Life gets trés compliqué for Hafiz.
Bowled him! Bales off, splintered and flying!
The Game’s ended the day for Hafiz.
He’s gone, the old soak in his wine-stained
cloak; become no-one. No! Don’t pray for Hafiz!
That old Emerald Beggar whose tears wet our heads?
His Beloved waited night and day for Hafiz.
They’re cuddled up No-where in rose-starred bliss;
Great Love carved a moonlit bay for Hafiz.
Michele, stay home, don’t drink. Buy his books.
Like he needs the royalties? Ho!Ho! Hooray for Hafiz!
MICHELE WAERING has an MLitt in Creative Writing from The University of Glasgow. Her poems have been published in From Glasgow to Saturn; A Thousand Cranes: Scottish Poets for Japan, From Quill to Quark and Envoi. She lives in Renfrewshire, Scotland.