A beautiful work of art,
By George Zoggolopoulos,
Is on The New Promenade,
Marvel at its ingenuity,
And pray for sun!
A grey day,
A gloomy day,
All black and white,.
A despondent, disappointed day.
The monotony is marked by rain,
Copious sheets of it.
And yet I’m cheerful.
The seat beneath me ,
The only splash of colour,
Lifts my spirits and makes me see anew.
The world is a blank canvas,
On which I can choose what to write…
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Lying beside you,
I feel an electricity,
A kinetic charge,
Even without touching.
But when you lie in my embrace,
Skin on skin,
I feel the heat of you,
The pulse beat of you,
And the velvet fur on your arms.
I feel passion,
I feel safe,
And I feel loved.
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Banged up in bed, with a very sore head,
And a diet of daytime TV,
Selina and Fred
And a boy band called Red,
And a feature on Kalamazoo,
You’re in a morass, because the shows are quite crass,
And you sink into a slough of despond ,
Cookery shows give the only odd glows,
And the antiques, of which you are fond,
Back and forth to resusc with a minimum fuss,
Go the trolleys and the beds on the ward.
Machines that go plink, pills that fizz, blue and pink,
Or we just fall on our sword.
Beds are thin and unkind, pillows so hard to find,
So your head rests on a blanket or sheet,
You have tubes up your nose, and some stuff on your toes,
And god alone knows what they’ve done with your feet.
Your body’s on fire, you’re about to expire,
From the stifling heat round your bed,
So the air-con is on, more Banff than Saigon,
To turn you from scarlet to red.
You’ve a sore, itchy rash, like a bad pebble-dash,
And your blood feels like it may be on fire,
Plug you into a socket, you’d go off like a rocket,
“Light blue touch paper and retire”!
How do I know when I meet someone,
That my exquisite journey has just begun,
That there’s no one on earth or under the sun,
Who makes me feel so complete.?
How do I test my intuition,
That has placed me in this extraordinarily great position,
That this is a match made in heaven, no war of attrition,
And this woman makes me feel replete?
How do I put one foot in front of another,
How do I suppress the urge to fuss or smother,
Because I know there is simply no other,
Who makes me feel so grand and upbeat?
How do I resist the need to feel,
That my world without her is sad and surreal,
That there’s just one more moment I’d gladly steal,
And run the risk of being indiscreet!
It’s with you I want to spend every day,
Showing you in every possible way,
That our love is large and it’s here to stay,
That in us, two halves of a whole simply meet.
Photo: Anna Kunst