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The birds will sing again
for my sweetheart when summer comes around
the place where Helen
now dose
sleep
Its to where I'll lay my
flowers and sit and talk to her whilst listening to the birds as they sing there
loverly songs
again
Now winter on It's way so damp cold and miserable
not the place to be but come again the summer I will sit with her
again
And listen to the songbirds sing there songs for Helen cause In summer It's a pleasant place to be but for me another winter to get through
Helen always struggled In winter but come the summer she would come to life
Fair-weather love is all the rage
like plastic wine glasses
lost in the grass

A summer haze

Fair-weather love is all the rage
And we are just having one of those days
Forever
It was as if only yesterday...

The endless sounds of rippling water passing me by.

Birds whistling a soothing song that all is well.

A gentle breeze rustling the leaves above and the grasses below.

The smell of earth, air and water filling my lungs.

Exhaling my troubles onto the gentle river and watching them float away.

I miss yesterday...

©️
her hair swayed in the wind,
delicate and gentle

her eyes were like beads of honey,
just like amber and chestnut

her spirit soared like an eagle,
graceful yet powerful

she was like 'summer linen',
woven intricately;
flying in a field of sunflowers
Translated by Przemyslaw Musialowski 8/15/2018

Late moon
takes the baton
- offering to the twilight
a bow in sacrifice:
with glow greeting
star aesthetes
- an orchestra of crickets
- eternal poets,
so that songs of love
inspired by the muses
- they would loudly sing
in the thickets.

Wieslaw Musialowski 10/9/2001
Friends, I am asking for your understanding, because all my translations must be proofread and corrected. Poems are hard to translate (even in free verse translations). The original is rhymed. Regards.
Greg Jones Oct 6
And we looked at the summer for the last time
In the twilight of our youth.
And we spoke to the summer for the last time
In the highlight of our truth.
And it was real but we never knew.

You needed emotions for the first time,
It reflected in your eyes.
I hid my emotions for the first time,
As it echoed through my lies.
And it was real but we never knew.
We never knew it.

When you can see who you could be,
Maybe we’ll meet again.
When I forget all my regrets.
Maybe we’ll meet again.
Fọlá Oct 6
In the stables, or in the wild.
In the winter, or in the summertime.
In the shadow of the sunshine,
In the darkness of the cold night.

Free;
The Stallion must ride.
Free;
The Stallion must ride. . .
andY Oct 5
let’s sit beneath wild flowers
on wooden stools
with a set of plates and cake
and you relate
to me and i to you

let’s breathe this life
and close our eyes
see more clearly
than we ever might

let’s chat this day away
and reveal the things
we’re scared to say

and when the sky will fade
we can claim:

we lived today.
Luna Pan Oct 4
summer days
late greek nights
listening to abba
just you and me
dancing under the moon
this is heaven for me
Skyla Oct 4
You looked like summer, your soul fire was ablaze,
Igniting passionate flames and burning up your heart.    
You set yourself on fire over and over again for me
But when you became raging and chaotic,
I desperately tried to put you out,
but you swallowed me.
I slowly suffocated from the heat, and disintegrated into ashes.  The sun just wasn’t meant for a soft, breezy flower like me.

I was spring, rose-lit evenings reflected in my eyes
Grape vines grew all around my limbs,
I sang swan-songs under olive trees about you
I created elixir poetry for you, that made me swoon.
I cooed like a bird and pranced around like a butterfly.
I spread my wings like an angel, humming with the bees, dancing like a firefly girl, madly in midnight.

Although you were the sun, you adored the moon.
You worshiped her and loved her, her crystalline white beauty, like dew drops on a rose, or the feathers of a dove.  She dazzled you

I was gonna sparkle up your eye, be your moonlit girl,
your evening lover, your morning darling, your summer peach, but I was nothing but a spring fling, if that.  

Hot summer nights in mid-July, left me glistening and gleaming with passion, glowing like glitter and gloss.  I drowned myself in the embers of love, burning up with a fever.  

I imagined your honeydew eyes and nectarine lips, gently caressing my cherry ruby ones.  I imagined the way you’d brush my golden locks of hair, ever so gently, and plant the seeds of your warm kisses on the top of my head.  

I was a spring girl, trying to be midnight for you.
I absolutely destroyed myself, crumbled like Pompeii
Just to be your eye candy, and your heart candy too.
You were tired of my pastels and my dew-drop innocence, my frolicking Bambi grace, and my dolly mind?

I painted my big doe eyes in black, trampled the fairies and water nymphs around me, and followed the voice of the devil, a shadow vampire, the temptress voice of a siren, velvet and serene.  

I wore tight satin, choking myself in silk curtains, shattered all my Fine China, let Medusa turn my heart to stone, watching the serpent snakes coil around my body and guide me out of the garden of Eden.

Sexualised icon, beauty queen, big flirt, learning to sensually dance to Springsteen.  

And the mascara runs down my face, my wine red lip stick bleeds and dribbles into my mouth, my waist is tight with the ribbons wrapped around it.  

I loved you, I adored you, I wanted you to adore me to.
Moonlight, sunshine, spring girl, summer boy,
Your European temple, your ice cream cone,
Your French Riviera, your Italian rose-garden.

Your northern lights.

My summer lover, now ghost,
I will always cherish our divine memories
I will always be fond of the flowers you planted in me
But I will never forget the day you ripped them out
Tore them from their roots, killing them all
And handing them to another pretty garden girl.


I wept, not so much for the loss of my flowers
But for the pain that you had so carelessly caused me
I wouldn’t even want the flowers back,
I just wanted you.
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