Quandary

Under the mango tree

Sat to write poetry

Rains came down 

Without any warning

Ripe mangoes landed

All around me.

Shades of yellow, green,

So tempting, my fingers

Wanted to pick and eat

But that would mean

Stopping what I was doing

And if I let that moment pass

Words would surely escape me

I would be left with mango

Juice dripping, a filled tummy 

But brain scraped off 

Of thoughts like a mango seed

Left in a quandary whether

To write or eat...unhurried!