Love we the warmth and light of tropic lands
the strange bright fruit
the feathery fanspread leaves
the glowing mornings and the mellow eves
the strange shells scattered on the golden sands
the curious handiwork of Eastern hands
the little carts ambled by humpbacked beeves
the narrow outrigged native boat which cleaves unscathed, the surf outside the coral strands
Love we the blaze of colour . .
the rich red of broad tiled-roof and turban . .
the bright green of plantain-frond and paddy-field . .
nor dread the fierceness of the noon
the sky serene
the chill-less air
and tropic trees
seem like a dream fulfilled of lotus-ease - The Tropics poetry by Douglas Brooke Wheelton Sladen