By Arcadian on
Thursday, September 23, 2004
Friday, July 30, 2004
The coastal colonnaded villa comes to life
as the weathered shutters are drawn apart
Its been a long cold winter and new
seasons quinces gleam in the morning sun.
Swallows flutter, chirp in the gentle breeze,
The heart skips a beat with a precious hope
O Boreas what news do you bring ? is it
a sweet song that whispers in the pines? ;
or a harbinger for a beloved, long gone traveller ?
Golden quinces become mottled as a dark cloud
menaces briefly then moves out to sea.
A rope creaks, strains within the ancient well.
The young boy winches a wooden pail from the still water;
it surfaces and sees daylight at last,
Tears trickle, overflow with isolated spills here and there,
as if old harboured emotions are released
after been held for so long in the dark depths.
Feeling bare and vulnerable but free in the midst
of mute elms and oaks about to gaze at a new drama,
Down the gentle slopes I race , along the marbled pathway
beside the vista of broken columns and there out to
a cobalt sea: a pale blue caique sails inland
into the emerald clear waters to a small jetty
where I will welcome back my precious love,
with strong arms ready to embrace and hold tight,
for another summer together at the paralea.
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