My Poem

More and more each day I see,

You’re becoming a poem to me.

Arm in arm we walk around,

A happier couple cannot be found.

One by one our friends do sigh,

With joy or envy, some do cry.

Minute by minute with you is love,

Your caring heart is like heaven above.

De jour en jour de plus je vois,

Que tu devient un poème pour moi.

Little by little my dreams you fill,

With excitement so great I can’t sit still.

Hour upon hour our time does feel,

Glorious, magical, and almost surreal.

Night by night I fight to stay awake.

Close my eyes? Lose your face? I cannot take!

Siempre mas, cada dià, te veo devenit,

Un poema por mi.

Morning after morning I wake at your side,

The darkness of our room, my departure tears, does hide,

Step by step to work I do walk

Warmed by the memories of our morning talk.

Giorno dopo giorno, simpre più, vedo te,

Devenire le miei poesie.

Originally written Nov 10, 1997

Notes: Feel a little showing off-ish, no? Could be the by-product of being surrounded by teachers and students from all over the Mediterranean, and that I was simultaneously learning Spanish & Italian, following the revelation by an English teacher that I should think in French to do it.

From my Madrid files on the Pub Storytellers nights. Where an eclectic group of expats, troubadours, and assorted, sodden wordsmiths gathered twice a week to share a few pints, tell many tall tales, and lessen our loneliness at our favorite Irish Pub in Madrid, Spain, back in 1997-98. I kept my scribbles from these nights and the poems that grew out of the stories I told. This is the first time I’ve ever published these. I hope you enjoy them.

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