An irregular, irreverent, post-modern account of the surreal, the ordinary, and the bizarre happenings on and around the Felia lavender farm in Crete

Wednesday, May 06, 2009

One more summer?

No more false hopes.
No more unreal expectations.
No more miracle cures on distant horizons.
This, my love is it.
This, my darling, is the start of our goodbye.

But how do we arrange this parting?
When both of us were younger we
parted from other lovers
but now?
Parting is for youngsters
Departing is for old timers
For us.

In all these years together
I have loved you

No less over time
More if anything

And if the years have raddled us
still our tatterdemaillion suits us well
and can take nothing from this love

I cry bitter tears
my mouth is full of ashes
but this has to be

One more summer my love?
and then goodbye.