"maracaibo" poems
The moon above Maracaibo
Deigns to lower its great arm,
Sending broad white streaks
Across the mighty dark.
Around the lakeside chanting
Songs of the evening hum,
Couples dwell beneath her,
Drinking their watery ***
The moon above Maracaibo
Likes to glint in your glass,
Tasting a bit of that mixture,
Dabbling in perfect romance.
But when the day arrives
To turn the blue grass green,
It waits for pitch-black night
To make Maracaibo sheen.
Oct 19, 2018
Oct 19, 2018 at 9:59 PM UTC
I've cracked them for years,
so thrilling
by the barrel,
black & white,
all tossed overboard,
casted to those
swashbuckling-fools.
And while
I may not be a quick study,
I still long for Maracaibo,
to see a chilling moon,
to collect your kisses.
I miss them.
Jul 15, 2014
Jul 15, 2014 at 10:28 PM UTC