I saved for you alone  
an old box full
the treasures of my youth,
the laughter and the woes
the values and the truth
and the memories
I saved them all for you
including those first kisses,
our explorations,
the times we swam together
at the Sea of Innocence
where I saw you
float away,
away from me
and your surprise

To find it again,
perhaps it would
feel less like being
the one left
adrift

I saw you twelve years ago ~
blond hair on a sunny afternoon
attending a class reunion
closer to forty
yet I could not remember you,
not like that

Earlier, I remember you ~
dark hair on a sunny afternoon
in the middle of French lessons
you were close to seventeen
this, I can remember
so clearly

That you were sweet and smart ~
playful, generous and right
flashing your smile
you did reach out
and I kept the letters
our conversations,
how they found me interesting,
pair of scrutinizing eyes
after all these years
I could remember

Farewell then, dear friend ~
Will treasure the fond memories
thank you for your friendship
the inspiration
the good example
if ghosts are but memories
Will you please come haunt me
now and then,
from time to time, again
after all these years?

You were braver then ~
So may your lamp rekindle
brighter now
beyond the wall mysterious
And I hope to see you
once again
someday, somewhere
somehow.

Moon wanes
its silent smile
a long journey
every fortnight
odd reflection plays
the old familiar game
oblivious
to the howls,
to the sighs
unable
to let go.

Small defeats
here and there
causing good to go away
and your smile

Now I keep hearing your thoughts
from the other room
more apologies
only making me less
in your eyes,
with no lies
Am I going
away

Do I surround you now
my soul
lost in the flickers
of candlelight
with you trying to forget me
for a second
yet I am
never
away

Ages later
you have forgotten
sweetly forgiven me
All is restored
and warm again
God Bless you,
Always
Never away

And thus we bid you
welcome to our home,
Finzi-Continis
of the new Century.
Oh, we play jeu de paume all day
behind our walled gardens
Deuce! Love! Set!
you can hear the birds,
the lawnmowers humming diligently
in the yards
the automobiles
Sense a world out there
so vulnerable
Those we think
we care not about
or would prefer
not to know about
ever, really.
Best leave us alone,
spending our sated evenings
arguing politics in candlelight
intense debates,
places unseen
"Not much else there
could have been done,
was there?"

Come back, carefree!
Happy-go-lucky
Deuce! Love!
For every once in a while,
I wake up,  for a moment
back in the Garden,
not alone
"A soap bubble!"
"There! ~ another!"
Amid childish laughter
we watch them float away,
their colors winking back.
And we play
merrily,
a blanket of sunshine ~
'...and there's another!'

You know how you must feel to write this
Begone Melancholy, Nostalgia, Chagrin!
The sun is smiling
We are thankful
Life acquiesces
with many more graces

Finally ~ just right.

Spring is the sound of the singing birds
to the summer of endless loving
Au revoir to the fogs that cloud the hearts,
Farewell to the mists where souls are lost
Come and stay here, sun!
Come to stay!

Beaumaris,
carnival of soft pastel tones
of damp evenings
of tramway cars
with small orange lights
distracted bystanders
the empty bridges
the silent horizons
pale lace on a parasol,
light sepia dreams
of a particular Monet,
forgotten, unseen
before the rains came.

Many years later,
I found her
so tenuous, so subtle
in what little was left
yet there it was, her soul
all new shades
of melancholy.

Now I just swim,
every now and then
in that blue ocean
of her blueness,
the Sea of Oblivion.
In the glimpse  
of bright reflections
of sunshine
on the water,
of salted afternoons
in a country
where it no longer
rains

To love you
so intensely
Such a strange love
demands no
understanding

To think of you
and speak of you
a state of mind
fundamental
for the living
Glory to those
who died seeking you
a State of my own mind,
our own mind

Queen of ideals
oh precious Freedom,
Love for you
so pure
it heals the soul
If I can dream
and navigate
the mighty river of Will
in this breezy peace,
I live

Come and sing to me  
of the countless sacrifices
for your sake supreme
make us see
how it was
you came to be
so beautiful,
above
the Sun and the Moon
to the simple man
who understands nothing
yet accepts their kiss invisible
on his rugged cheek,
and with a deep breath
draws inside
a taste of the light

Oh Freedom!
...
*Que de crimes on comet en ton nom

Anglophilia
An early passion
one cannot say
when or why
perhaps his father's admiration
or was it his mother's apprehension
for them

Leaves of sweet ruby tea
hot ginger pasties
glory of candle skinned  ladies
the warm eyes and cold hearts
what lovely cats you have

Avon flows, its quiet cenote waters
surrounding the poetical urns
Cheery children
noses against windows
those of shopkeepers
that smothered
Napoleon

Yes, Avon flows
the timely midnight trains
to a myriad country stations
all the many
noble selfish
ideals
Joy of bright roses
in a small garden below
where the Keats still play
Adam and Eve
and hear the City's pride
its mechanical soul  
sing its hollow lonely tune again
Oh, where did all the angels go?