Chilling here at a cafe in Manila, a looong way from Verona Italy, I reminisce. Here is a poem that I never posted.
You never know when your moment together will end, so while you can
love, full, and with all your being. There’s simply no more
beautiful thing to do is there?
——
Splashes from the ancient fountain
sun glisten off our smiles.
A centuries old flower filled square,
Centuries of lovers have danced there.
in the mythical city of love,
in the shadow of a white dove
But was that really you?
Was that really I?
Hand in hand we walked the cobbled streets.
Hand in hand we journeyed the twists, the turns,
The city of love blessing us with it’s splendour,
Blessed be the lovers who risked all!
Blessed be those who jump Blind.
You and I, blessed, leaping Into the dazzling unknown.
Your laughter glistens like the sun,
My smile never stopping,
A kiss, deep and true in a hidden alley.
Your shyness so sweet, your joy so great.
Together in the the Italian lake.
Together in a dew fresh morning,
Fresh figs, three stones, dreams, fears, passion found.
Even the trees bend to bless us with their bounty
The memories are just as sweet.
My love…
Was that really you?
Was it really I?
As one in each others arms.
As one at dusk and at dawn.
Together in a dream,
Together in the city of love,
