We touched antiquities...
as relics in memories...
in poetically sorrowful times...
gobbling...
Thessaloniki, Kalabaka, Patka, Mykonos, Delos, Santorini climes
Stood whereon Paul preached...
Phillip's Alexander lived to die...
far before Lord Byron romanticized
Ferried blue and white seas...
flapping blues and whites in skies
Prowled upon Holstein grounds...
amongst surreal beings, windmills, cats, drifting sails and olive pounds
Whilst grasping threads of life...
with love's memories...
losing all to time
© 2023 Jim Davis
Continuing my poem "Touching" with a trip to Greece