The Greek Taverna
The Greek Taverna
Where can you be, dancer of my soul?
I want it be 1967 right now.
Where I can walk into the Minerva
Be seated by a handsome host,
And with my heart pounding..you are now walking towards me.
The red and white, checkered tablecloths -all fresh
My heart beating faster and
Sparkling like the cool ice on
your tray.
You warmly greet us in Greek
and give us the menu,
You knew I ordered Retsina always.
But you asked in hushed , musky and earthty tones,
"If I wanted some?"
I watched you walk away with your oh, so perfect Greek body,
Pressed black pants, red jacket and crisp, white shirt and perfectly polished shoes.
You return with Retsina, and it's my chance to order my dinner.
To let me seduce you with my brown eyes.
Yasou!
You always chose me first in any
Dance.
How could I refuse you?
I didn't know then, that the many times
We danced to Thessaloniki Mou
When You whispered "Agape mou"
in my ear.
It was not part of the lyrics.
I see decades later, it is not.
It's not too late for souls like ours,
For we are eternal, like sparkling stars!
We are bound by a spiritual creation.
And through silent nights we can
Still talk, kiss and hold one another..
In a musky moonlight
And a galaxy of a star sensation.
Forever,
Panagiota
Copyright © Panagiota Romios | Year Posted 2019
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