Do not steal my moon
and leave me out to sea
with tears of passion....
Where is my moon?
the one that I pledge to
of my undying love,
how has it covered the sun
and still be hidden from sight?
how has darkness
with its heavy footsteps
Come to knock at my door,
yet leave the light
craving for more
of an empty musical score
In a night without the rays
of its breath,
making it a cynical stage
in a meaningless world...

I have come to ask you
In this moonless night of pain
Not to forget me,
when you close your eyes
to kiss another lips...

Do not forget me,
when you cradle another
one in a fervent embrace...

such spectacular feelings
of which I have never
come to know....
nor my eyes have come
to see....
nor my touch has come
to taste...

remember my name
and its sound of life,
remember my song
and its words of woe...

oblivion is death
in the hands of
a twisted dagger
piercing my heart
with a magnitude of sorrow
unmatched...uncontested...
with blood in
the wine of regret...

I ask thee only
to forget me not
For I will always
thee remember
Remember thy face,
they voice...
and all that in thee
I have come to love..

For if my moon were there
then I could swear
with all my might
and turn this lonely day
into a moonlit night
of chance,
and romance

Where is my moon?

The winds grow like wild flowers
in the Avenue of Liberty
sunlight kissing park benches
and statues of means
I have mingled with its people
The village fools,
The beggars,
The old men...
Retired to their places
in my river of memories

A swarm of street cars pass by
and I hear the soothing sounds
of the Portuguese tongue
But I missed the sight
of the purpose of my flight
even though the joys of her beauty
has become Lisbon's lullaby...
I have had my share of tears
In the Avenue of Liberty

I tried to drain the
sorrow of my pain
through bottles of
foreign liquor
in drunken passion
I laid myself
into a wishful slumber
yet nothing can erase
the shadows that tormented me

In the deep of the night
with pictures of your face
in my dreams
then all was dead silence
at the stroke of dawn
But the Avenue of Liberty
gave me no moment of peace
and the river of my memories
ran like arrow
eager to pierce its mark

A piece of my heart
will always remain
Down in the Avenue of Liberty
where you and I were so apart
yet, somehow, in spirit
we merged through the wires
In conversation and distance
we loved as we danced
The dance of fate
that pulled our strings
in a masquerade of feelings
into a labyrinth of consequences

Body and soul
I still long
for the hours I've spent
though alone,
though weeping,
in that haunting park
at the back of my French hotel
There in the liberty of Avenues
The Avenue of Liberty....

Bronze skin
drenched by the light
of the Portugal sun
Lines and countours
slowly shape a man
in his glorious splendour

youth and beauty
chiseled with fire
morning wonders
in the depth of his eyes
Speak they of golden
sensual tales
as their brown color
eagerly traverse the
waiting blue horizons

birds sing their songs
and trees sway in a dance
wild flowers loudly declare
the poetry of his form

Son of the Portugal sun
disperse all our woes
bring laughter sans tears
Ruler of love and
Conqueror of hearts
bathe us in seas
of quiet tranquility
and mesmerize into slumber
the moon up on high

A question within a question
a mystery unfolds
No answer forthcoming
no soul to be sold
to gods and to mortals
to nature and to space
a nest for all sweetness
in the palm of his hand

To share but a moment
in his arms softly lay
is to touch the shimmering light
of the bold Portugal sun!