The melody of laughter

Punctuates the river’s song

As they meld into rafters

Of crushed-reed cabin prongs

Of a drink-glazed proud house of beauty

Afforded by princes

For price and for duty

In the rumour it rinses

Hung with veils

That volunteer wishes

With the woody scent that trails

The teak culvert officious

Until the dusk crusades

Into burgeoning suites

Set back in the trades

In the dyed cotton sheets