This happened long ago when I, still young,
did not believe in angels (nor in hell),
nothing was biblical that I could tell
but life would change, and I should bite my tongue.
The stranger in our local place to be
wore white and made the dusty sunlight twirl,
his eyes were looking for just any girl
and out of all the ones, this man chose me.
We smiled of course and then he took my hand.
We danced a bit and drank a beer or two.
He didn’t talk much, strangers never do.
We walked all night over the moonlit strand.
He showed me what I should have seen before,
the stars in patterns they had never been,
he offered me his shoulder then to lean,
the sea began to sing, could I need more?
He took the ferry, to leave at seven.
I never saw him back, don’t know his name
nor what his business was, for what he came.
I only know that he was sent from heaven.
just a bit of fun
a Spring butterfly making silent leaps
as it jumps to the sky and returns,
the sound that you hear when there is no sound
the blue that you see when there’s nothing to see:
I saw this butterfly yesterday, it followed me from the dunes to the sea:)
Mischievous you were in your enticing elegance,
I liked our ligaments, our naughty, numerous
and humorous adventures with no dirty dissonance.
This was no decadence, as you seemed gentle, generous.
At times you acted so fantastic and amorous
but there is nothing glamorous in being bombastic.
I am not sarcastic, just trying temperance
because my tolerance is not for ever elastic.
Though your attention has been pouring plentiful,
so beautiful, giving my life a dearest dimension,
I dread that your pretension is very villainous.
You were too lecherous in this clever contention,
in my retention I have too many memories
of miseries, and you were mighty mischievous.
I tried to combine the droighneach and the sonnet form, I hope it is still a poem lol 😉