Loud thunder,
coming from down under.
Rain coming down,
dancing in the rain like a clown,
in my ballgown.
***********
Dancing with shadows in my room, dispels all
specters of gloom.
I envision the young Panagiota,in tulle ballet gown.
Bowing gracefully to her audience.
Oh, my how she made young men swoon.
At sixteen,lovely, nervous, her ballgown of sequins,
satin, lace and white.
Bowing to an audience, holding long scarlet stem roses,
on her special debutante night.
Years later, I see her learning belly dancing in Greek town,
on a lit stage.
"Always do something new"' was engraved on the top of her
lfe’s daily, exciting page!
She could never be still and sit quietly on any chair!
If a dance floor were ready..you can count in it, Panagiota's
feet imnediatelly would be there.
Between dancing, for Panagiota, there is always soul-love!
So sacred, so intimate, so unique..
Her heart rhythmic, yet soft as a young turtle dove's.
11/1/2024 Poem 3
I recall you, that suave cologne, your black tuxedo with red satin sash.
My taffeta, crimson ballgown that crinkled, we the outstanding duo.
At the San Francisco’s, suave Faimont Hotel’s
elelegant, primo, Valentine Bash.
Moments like these, scented with Guerlain mists, are my twinkling majie noir.
Bending me over the balcony with tender yet exciting, hot kisses.
A magical foggy San Francisco night,
If only, there were many, star-studded moe!
dressed in a ballgown
with a tiara
like Cinderella
and the rounded pumpkin-like coach
shows up
a pick-you-up
of a princess
on the streets of Ukraine
dreams do come true
are they over now
for another sister?
she would have been your family
weeping in the streets
orphans left behind
they were already behind
but now…no one can reach them.
God can reach them
God sees this atrocity
feels the pulse
hell’s on the loose
The kiss
her lips had kissed many a man a butterfly
Fragrant and vivid like a spring day in May
Yet not to the point of pollination.
She waited for a kiss that tasted of wealth
She dreamed of a castle and ballgown if silk
Sailing down the river on a boat made
Of a swans’ feather sewn by silky threads.
She met him and when they embraced,
It was as wonderous as when earth and
Heaven became one and nothing counted
At last fertilisation and deep was their love.
At dawn she awoke he had gone, Nine
a month later she gave birth to a golden son,
Her lover is a poet living inside his dream.
Pastel pink ballgown floats on horizon
Belle of the ball accompanied by gray gents
Dancing into early morn, roosters sing on
Still accented by soft entertainment
So swiftly has the dance floor changed to light
Like life that changes slipping up on us
A mother bird busied herself with bright
Eyes and wide mouths, then gone is little fuss
Cool is the morn, damp the air_ comfortable
Soon the golden sun will warm the air, chase
Away the chill, send me inside unable
To enjoy nature, But God's presence is in place
A few ballgown minutes, time moves onward
Thank you for this time in heart undergird
.
Triple string of pearls
Crinolin puffed green ballgown
Pampas grass fall's grace
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