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