Mango

When I pass by the kitchen I smell sweet hay,
As I enter the kitchen, the smell intensifies.
This smell comes from a basket full of hay
In which are embedded scrumptious mangoes.
I move towards the basket and put the hay aside,
And remove a ripe yellow mango.
It is as warm as a chick.
I wash it with ice water and remove the hay stuck to it.
The entire room is filled with its aroma.
I then take a knife and begin to slice it.
It is orangish yellow, looks very pretty and alluring.
Then I dig my teeth into the soft fleshy fruit
And pull it off its skin;
Into my mouth.
Ah! It is sour.
Tuck! It’s sweet, sour.
I begin to take small bites and suck it within my mouth.
The sweet, sour taste is tickling.
Yum! It melts into my mouth.

Shawarma...yummy!!!

A tower of meat
Rotating on a vertical skewer.
Flanked by an onion on top
And a tomato beneath
Intermittently are placed chunks of fats.
As it roasts in the furnace hot
Grease and the juices fall in the receptacle
Drop by drop.
The shawarma man shaves off the meat from the tower
Into the receptacle
Full of grease and juices drops.
This mix of meat, fat and juicy drops
He transfers onto a roti hot.
Then on it is poured hummus, tahini and lemon juice.
Followed by pickled vegetables, cardamom and lettuce.
Then come the French fries
And the roll is made.
Heated a bit and served with
Mayonnaise and pomegranate concentrate.