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The Lilac wine. 1- She told me, maybe, maybe not. Let’s allow the lilac wine, to write the story for us. 2- Life is many colors, we can paint her black, we can… Continue reading
Author Archive
Waterfall of tears. And a beautiful Beth Hart song.
Waterfall of tears. “Hearts awryWary ghostly graspWeary lonely gaspYet I can’t hold Enclasp” The night is silence, old heart awry in somber songs, barren sea memories and smitten kisses remembered. The wary ghostly… Continue reading
I knew how to sing once, dear Julie.
I knew how to sing once, dear Julie. Once I believe in love and I believed in the ambrosia of forever.When I drink my coffee late at night and I write. Sweet memories… Continue reading
The beauty and the sea.
The beauty and the sea. You saved me. You waited for me by the blessed Pacific Ocean and you turned to me. You looked at me with your sea blue eyes and I… Continue reading
The days of May.
The days of May. Kind Spring came, the warm days are here for us. The Flowers are rising up and they are reaching for the sun. The children are being sun-kissed by the… Continue reading
Old story, same world today. The killing’s gotta stop. And an amazing Maria Daines song.
The killing gotta stop. We are one people and this is one earth. If we stand together as one people. 500,000 people standing for the cause of human rights. We can save our… Continue reading
Yes, Spring is here. You are my muse.
You are my muse. 1- You told me. I need you nearby. You are my reasons to awake and fight the new day. I embraced you and I told you. You are my… Continue reading
Beautiful faces, kind memories. And a beautiful Jasmine Thompson song.
Beautiful faces and passionate kisses. When the night is long and sleep is far away.Sweet faces appeared to awake dead passion and re-birth ghosts lost in the sea of memories.Regret is plenty for… Continue reading
Longing and belonging.
Remember you, remember me. 1- The lights are low and the night is young.Your perfect blue eyes welcomed my attention.I kissed your tender ivory skin and I tasted the salt upon soft neck… Continue reading
We cannot own the wind or control the sea. And a beautiful Patricia O’Callaghan singing Cohen.
We had the month of May, once. Pretty gal from Italy told him by the Monterey Bay, the pipe dream poet, he isn’t poetry, he isn’t love, he is cursed, cursed to live… Continue reading