Autumn in Chueca
Azul skies
Light the square below
Where homeless gather 
Amidst swathes
of raucous laughter
As if all cares
Had slipped down
The nearby metro stairwell.
Some smoke...
Some slap backs
One massages a beggar lady's neck
Like ancient lovers.
Others sell tissues
Amongst ballerina pigeons
Pecking for peace beneath tapas laden tables.
All life really is here.
Old men with leather-like, baked-on skin,
Lean, as if life is forever, on sticks
Passing the day, the time
With cigars, memories and wine.

And I sit in the sun
Like a Caesar
Assessing a campaign-
Where to turn next
What path to forge
How next to put pen to paper
To picture for my lover
This fragrant land
Of  Moorish memories,
Liberated love, candid care.
A thousand years
Into this




  • Neville

    You sir are indeed a poet .. this is a fine introduction to your work .. I have no doubt I shall be visiting many more

    .. Neville

    • Keith

      Very generous of you to say so. Much appreciated.

    • Teddy.15

      To the readers advantage, as I too do the same thing sitting observing. What makes a great poet? , the depth in which he sees his imagery. And yes another truly amazing read with so much deepness. Kudos dear Keith. 💖

      • Keith

        Readers like you certainly help to spur me on. Again, thanks for taking the time to write these lovely things, Teddy. I hope all is sunny in Italy. x

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