LISBONby John Drudge   The CaféDown
To the Latin Quarter
To the café
By the store
Where you bought
That green dress
Where we locked
Our bikes
To the street lamp
And raced the rain
To salvation
Where the table
Was ours
In our universe
Away from it all
With everything nestled in
Where it belonged  Autumn StoryFall colours
Flow through the valley
And beyond the ridge
The horizon suffused
With reds and golds
And flashes
Of stubborn green
The breeze
Of the season’s ending
Sweeps leaves
Across a sea of stones
Along the slope
And I look toward
The sun sinking
In the crisp cool sky
My hand
Gently brushing yours
The mood
Moving through us
Like a story    SirenIn the wind’s withering
Between the wall and the sword
The righteousness of bounty
And the temptation
Of the flower
A gusting breeze
Through branches
Bends gilded wings
Into wide eyed desperation
As the dance of desire
Like a siren in blackness
Beckons    LisbonMosaics
Sprinkle the streets
As intricate tiles
Glisten light
Down shadowed alleys
Beneath washing hung
In the hot stale breeze
A church bell sings
And the leafy streets
Come alive
With the rhythm of
Everything
The simple things
Becoming us
Walking beyond
The remnants
Of the walled off town
By the water
With the fallow things
Under the gaze
Of our reckoning
As the tram clangs
And fades away
Up the hill
On a sun shining day
In Lisbon  About the Author:John Drudge is from Caledon, Ontario, Canada. He is a social worker working in the field of disability management and holds degrees in social work, rehabilitation services, and psychology. John is the author of one book of poetry (published in 2019), and has appeared in the Arlington Literary Journal, The Rye Whiskey Review, Poetica Review,  Literary Yard, Drinkers Only, The Alien Buddah Press, Montreal Writes, Mad Swirl, Avocet, and Harbinger Asylum.  John is a Pushcart Prize nominee and his Book “March” is available in Independent Book Stores across Canada and on Amazon.com. 

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