The Pipa Longan Lady

There was once a man named Logan Goji
Who had a thing about longans and wolfberries
One reminded him of a sweet love
The other recalled a wild dove

In a fine garden of stone tables and tea set
Longan Lady clasped a pipa and said,
"Logan my dear, I play you a tune
Of love and lament and ancient ruins."

Logan sat rapt and listened
As tears fell from his eyes and glistened
"Oh my, this woman's voice is so resonant
Of a profound love that's lost and not forgotten."

He felt as if that love was his
He felt a powerful love he could not resist 
Logan could never forget that Pipa Lady Longan
Who plucked a few strings and threw him a loaded gun

Into the garden flew a dove all white and pristine
She settled on the stone table in her beak a red thing
She dropped it into Logan's tea
It bobbled like a heart set on a sea

Logan watched, as the pigeon cocked an eye
That's me set adrift, lost and naked by and by
How did that lovely bird know
Logan asked, as the bird knocked the side of his bowl

He lifted and drank the sea with the tiny heart
It felt soft and vulnerable between teeth that's hard
Burst it did to send a flavour of flower
No longer a love he couldn't devour

Logan then felt a calmness return
No longer feeling a love lost and forgotten
He saw it well the garden, the pipa player and song
He was back to where he once belonged

"This tea with seed is indeed curative
Of visages that could cloud the imaginative
Oh, of what potency had Longan
Was easily defeated by this little berry runt" 

And that was how Logan began
To drink tea infused with Longan
To feel the things he could not see
To see the things he could not feel

And savour the moment long
Till a bite of the wolfberry ends the song
For great sight the wolfberry does give
To those mired in blurrish and strangeful deeds 

- by TC Lai