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“Foregone the home delight of constant truth”…
Today, like animals endangered of extinction,
Few words still rested from William Wordsworth;
If dwelling or housing, indeed, who makes distinction 
Between the constant truth and relative morals`omission? 
Maybe,poetically living near the Being,-says Heidegger 
We should make our heart a house for  the rebel youth; 
A light soil used as filter for sins,we become kind of kieselguhr: 
But love within us flows towards the great Precentor
He uses three signs, whose perfume is always true;
Feelings warm the slices of toasted bread  in a three-decker:
Some burning dreams can change us in dry biscuits,too;
Some thoughts go nowhere,but real love may turn us to
Charitas in Veritas:that`s the hope`s song of our quiet crew.


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  1. Date: 12/21/2014 9:16:00 PM

    Ah, I know someone from Romania, I will ask him to read and enjoy your writes. I know of another who lived close to Transylvania, he would tease me about Dracula.:) I'd been shown a lovely book with bright colourful houses and austere churches. A lovely place, Ovidu, and one noted for wonderful poets, much like yourself! Keep well and Sarbatori vesele.:) Mikki