Early morning
You fill me with beauty
You are the glow of my soul
You are the sweet smell
Always in the air
You are my only treasure
You are the beauty of my life
Dear
Your friendship
Is like a beautiful book
Enriches our lives
Good morning sweetie
One day I’ll meet you and,
I’ll love you unconditionally,
The way I’ve always dreamed
As I walked through the garden one bright morning,
I saw beautiful flowers of all kinds:
Eye-catching, glimmering and sparkling as the sun.
I walked towards where it laid.
A rose! a rose! I screamed with all joy.
I loved red roses, especially, their sweet centered and fragrance smell
Like a perfume smeared on the body.
One rose spoke to me,
Telling me all was well.
I jumped and danced all around.
As a springing youth, I hovered all around in circles.
Throwing arms and legs,
Laughing heartily was all I could do.
It was almost dusk,
But was still there.
As I listened the roses sing to me a song.
The melody! the melody of their voices
Like the bees producing honey from the sugary secretion of plants.
Giving me hope of a better day yet to come:
A dazzling brilliance, of course.
If my tears could build you a body,
An ocean of you would exist;
These tears I cry
For the one who died,
The one I truly miss.
I’ll see you again,
I don’t know where
Or how,
But all I can say is,
So long for now…
More at http://www.mikeloayza.com/.
Dedicated to my nice Romanian friend Vasile
you speak
my world colorful
you write
my soul is warmed
you smile
my heart is happy
signed
me
Dedicated to my best Romanian friend Vasile
Goodness, the very heart of you,
Joy, radiates in the life of you,
Love, the very being of you, being you.
When rockets begin to fall from the sky
To make the late afternoon cry,
Something must be done to trumpet
Through the naked silhouette
Of the daily news.
The flowers must take back their homeland
Be permanent, be baffling, be grand.
Let the stars follow their walk;
Then, with comfort the birds will flock,
Dispelling the days blues.
Once common romantic appetites
Will begin to fill those marble nights.
Triumphantly understanding its goal
To fill the large translucent hole,
Begging for its taboos.
More at https://www.inquisitionpoetry.com.