To the Old and New Year

White, green, violet, blue and red
Blossom flowers on meadow’s bosom bed.
The brook’s violin, I suddenly heard
It longingly played and strayed
To break my soothing solitude

I then sat by your side
Together in silence
We chatted
About Caeser’s bed and Wimpfen Bad.
As I your hand held,
Wind and leaves chimed
Music and brew blended

In the stillness deep, I gazed
Brook slowed, wondered, admired,
Surfed, pebble washed, gurgled.
A moment of quietude- Decembered.

Your lips I saw all cherry-dyed
Deep recessed my gratitude
Your Kastonian cheeks then shyly blushed
We together, slyly; turned and hid
Among the grass so lively but so tired.
As the locks in tender lay
I forgot all talk of haimweh ,
And perhaps even my home way.

In gratitude –

I held your tuliped skin
Wiped the sweat off your tan,
Danced in sprays of rain.
Dewdrops then fell on leaves,
Gleams shone in night heaves
You and I, in weaves yet again,
Until you said: Auf Widersehen.

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