A poem for Elvira

Lorenz

There's no more room on this agenda

where the years are slipping away ,

tracing furrows on harvest seasons .

Times scatters the precious adornment 

of a glance offered by chance.

Ink of a word ,the craftsman  didn't 

throw on  such a weird canvas...

Regret concerto performed

on some unfinished score.

We've met again in a story 

between Atlantis and Stonehenge 

or an ibiza beach 

when I was a hippie ,divine fisher

in the moonlight .

The day after had a taste of  somewhere

when led Zeppelin called 

for evening prayer ...

I longed and pluck for you 

a bouquet of passing clouds ,

bird pecking at the offered fruit...

I loved your solar nudity 

from a maya realm 

and still have on our lips

the offering of that ice-cream 

savored in piazza Spagna .

Space time macchiato ...

 Bella Elvira ,

you know ,my hair has become 

white horses that no longer

run in the wind .

I write my verses at the stable 

on a little wobbly table ...

waving towards yesterday 

where Lennon lies for eternity...

     Bella Elvira ...

Old ladies dress for midnight 

and dreaming to the rainy rhymn of past

confide vagrant memories to their umbrella...

     

 

 

 

 

 

  • Author: lorenz (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: June 10th, 2025 13:27
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 13
  • Users favorite of this poem: Ellen Marsell, Cheeky Missy
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Comments +

Comments3

  • sorenbarrett

    Age requires decisions. I love the last two lines of this poem and a fave

  • Lorenz

    These inspirers in a corner of memory...

  • Ellen Marsell

    There is a beautiful, weathered grace in these lines — a kind of music of memory. I like its unapologetic sentimentality and emotional landscapes. It wanders like an old man gathering flowers in a field of clouds, and that is its charm.

    • Lorenz

      A field of clouds .A dazzling painting in my mind !



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