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More days await underneath the solar's resplendant sheen,
dishevelled hair battered by michevious whirlwinds;
and slowly approaching my bright chapel, I promise to commit no sins.



Lilies and daisies are held by a cautious hand which has known love,
she accepts them and gently kisses me on these unspeakable lips;
what need is there to whisper anything, if looks can replace all words?



We carefully plan the adventurous years with happy moments,
sitting on the shining marble steps of a medieval church shaded by pines;
and who is listening to our secrets, if not the hesitating and intrusive swallows?



November departs in a hurry, to permit the gelid winter take over the scenery,
leaves detaching from the melancholic trees, the robins shaking off the light frost;
this is their home, shouldn't winter show solace...be kind and not impart the worst?



I stretch my tiepid arms, to embrace all trees and creatures, like saints in their niches;
and yet they're too small to save them all, to protect them in the safest place of the heart.
and give them the warmest feeling...when the harsh winds will bring those frightful blizzards.



By the ice-covered pond, where pretty ducks glided on soft waves lured by a steady breeze,
I breath hard, letting all the ice melt and allow them to swim so elegantly and so free;
they are my eternal friends, more than humans are...they perceive kindness and return it.


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

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