Hymn to Greece : At Milapotomos. #1

At Milapotomos
you swam
brown skinned and blonde hair
the deep fissured, blue veined water
and you rose
cleansed of salt and sand
pooling our emotion.

Surely some latter day Aphrodite?
If not
her daughter.

A hymn to Greece (Kythira to be precise) #2

I think
that I could live
live well
and long
in a little town
like Livadi
where the Greek coffee
at Rena’s café
is strong
and sweet
and where some of the men
of this small town
to chew the fat
as the honey streaked sun
beats them
into the shade

BIRTHDAY GREETINGS :A poem written by my father – around the time of my birth.

My parents parted when I was very young and I never got to know my father, although I am glad to be able to say that I have been privileged to have been brought up and nurtured by the most wonderful family and have always been (and continue to be !!) spoiled for love.

I like this poem very much, and as it was my birthday recently, I thought I would share it.

to tell our thanks is to whisper
In the teeth of hurricanes.

As when the mountain flower,
Simple in her wildly morning state,
Assumes false dignity
In the sculptured prism of a vase:
Or the proud beast
Shuffles off his best majesty-
Such then am I,
When I would make but minute mention of your worth.

For in the furnace, your worth
Grows mightier than just,
And I, as wordly chanceless
As a mute.