A voice that still haunts me
and lives in my dreams
The first time I saw her
a boy of sixteen
She lived just a mile
from where I am now
A treasure so hidden
to whose memory I bow
The Samba and Rio
she took me along
Yet barely a man
making love to her song
My eyes can still close
and return to that beach
where my heart she first captured
—and never released
(The Day Astrud Gilberto Died: June 5, 2023)
Categories:
gilberto, crush, fantasy, love, youth,
Form: Rhyme
We sat on a quiet porch by moonlight splashed,
Wrapped in a static of faint cicada song,
Watching a horizon by city lights sashed,
On sultry summer nights by lithe pixies thronged.
Bossa nova rhythms rippled lukewarm air,
Languid voices tiptoed in solacing calm,
Confidants whispering of the bronzed and fair,
Of sunlit sand they crooned a sun-lilted psalm.
Abducted we were by Jobim, Gilberto,
To a land swaying with the promise of June.
Those were the years we crowed with youth’s falsetto,
Blithely singing along, slightly out of tune.
- Inspired by the song “Desafinado (Out of Tune)” 1962 -
Categories:
gilberto, longing, music, night, nostalgia,
Form: Rhyme
morning cup of joe
morning kiss from the most enjoyably cold lips
no worries about worries
no plans to do thing according to plans
time is not even in the dictionary
we are making love to the stillness of our turn
afternoon stroll
evening shade in a jetted tub
quiet night with no light with an astrud gilberto assist
unified massages like blinders with happy faces
comforting compromise like clear vision confetti surprise
sugar coated smiles like we just came and met the Real Full Freedom
....now easily breathing....
Categories:
gilberto, freedom, happiness, joy, love,
Form: Free verse