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This is about San Francisco,1967

Oh, yes that city had its own song!
It was a siren's call that sang;
"Here, Panagiota, is where you do belong!"
And my dearest poets, the sirens 
call was not wrong.

It sang a song of cable cars jingling softly 
in the night.
And angelic choirs of fog horns that lullabied 
me in tones, oh so, perfectly right.

The sounds of tires on wet roads on 
pavements on a foggy eve.
Whispers from a city that told me, that within
its parameters,here, I would one day.... 
conceive!

Each day an adventure as on a
cable car I would ride.
Overcome by the beauty of the
Bay, the cable bell clanging it's
louder morning song.
"Come now, run, do not tarry!"

Who rides to heaven to work as 
I feel I did?
The bluest of skies,the thrill of a
cable car.
A teacher, going to work and as
exuberant as any kid!

The sounds of poultry in cages in 
Chinatown.
Try ordering pastries in Mandarin!
I loved its tones and the Chinese 
people.
Those far Eastern luscious pastries, 
oh, I so delighted in.

The children in Chinatown so bright 
and utterly respectful.
I can still see them playing on 
the school rooftop.
They had attitude in neon lights 
that forecast them being more than 
successful.

I befriended many people from
France. Well-mannered, loving
a fun-filled people.
They adopted me,gave me a French 
nickname and treated as their French 
counterpart and equal.
Bastille Day,zowie, the food they
made!
I sat there in a two piece crocheted 
outfit, under a big tree in the shade.

The Swedish bakery on Powell
Street was right across from my
hotel.
I think it was an International 
Think tank, as well!

When anyone started to down 
and insult or demean the USA,
My German friend, Martha, told
them to buy a ticket, go back to
Europe and get out of the USA,
and be on their way!

No..my poet friends, it was nothing 
like the unbridled bashing of America 
on display, that we think is great fun 
today!

The Greeks in San Francicso did not 
insult this country.
They were far too into busy owning 
businesses, doing good and were not 
into trash talking.

They saw to it that people were
happy and cared for to the max.
We always had awesome times
together.
We honored the USA and each
other,no matter what the weather.

The sounds of the hills still ring
in my ears.
And as I wrote this poem..I had
to stop more than once.
At beauty remembered,at love
shared and good times lost.

And the very first kiss from the
forever love of my life.
Under a lamplight on a divinely,
foggy, San Francisco night!


September 21, 2019
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