places

Wales in wondrous spring high
with I dog no longer young smelling
sea salt gaping in sandy hearts I
what short time here is telling

there are movements cool and suave
rolling down the hillsides of Rio
there are conditions most men crave
there is a yearning in the me to you

there is so much hovering above
the sites we all once called condition
there is a weary disposition for love
in the short red blood rendition

I see old Istanbul the Ottoman gone
behind old buildings melting into
ferry wild Bosporus glittering sun
with fried ghosts of fish on the go




Poetry by Bob
Read 568 times
Written on 2015-06-17 at 18:49

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text


Jamsbo Rockda The PoetBay support member heart!
Very nice. Your poems often take the reader cleverly around the world. Like a philosophical travel guide.
2015-06-19



hmmm ... where should I go? Wales has never held much interest for me; Brazil ... I've been there!!** so, Istanbul is mysterious and exotic. Enjoyed reading this. :)
2015-06-18