Posts

Mountain Winter

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  Snowflakes settled on an eyelash,  Wind and branches feel like a whiplash.   A blizzard is coming in, welcoming winter,  Time for warm indoor cheer and Christmas fur.   Pine trees covered in frosty snow,  As the chilly winds pick up and start to blow.    On mountain slopes a white dusty ice carpet,  Birds, bees and bears ready for the winter with all their grit.   An old, wooden chalet with lights on the top,  Liquid rainbow hung from its edge frozen into a drop.   Narrow wooden pathway leading upwards wound,  With a white picket fence zigzagged around.   Faint sun rays gliding across a flawless frozen lake,  Setting the stage for more beauty that nature can make.   Soft, hazy setting sun near horizon’s gate,  Raising hopes plunging into quiet evenings, our fate.   From dawn to dusk in this silent season, as days collide,  By mother nature’s laws all must a...

A Tango Rose

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  Plucked from a basket one morning crisp, With new hope and off to a bright new trip. Carried away in hands that were icy, To a dubious fate that just got dicey.  Loosely Pinned into her shiny auburn knot, As the tanguera in the mirror her watchful gaze sought. Out onto the floor with a dusky yellow light, A Spanish melody strummed into the the night. Silent chamber as the symphonies soar, Feet slink with expertise to the tango lure. The rose pulled out and caught between his lips,  Steady there through all the turns, whirls and dips. Then tucking it into the rim of his sombrero,  Moving around in the late evening glow. Performance over, thundering claps all around, Until at last slipped free and peacefully lay on the cold hard ground. A fulfilling life thought to be coming to a fleeting end,  Until picked up by a gentle hand of a sweeper friend. - San

Midnight Silhouette Dance Of Wandering Souls

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Soft music and silent glances across the floor Tanguistas embracing in the hope for more Like a paint brush on a canvas white and pure Tango, for every ordeal and tempest, a relieving cure Like a fallen star on the dance floor that reflects As we hear the orchestra’s resonance so complex Adept symphony playing an experienced chord With mutual surrender, to attain rapturous reward Gentle raindrops pit pattering on the outside  Cozy warm embraces and soft feet slide Milongueros’ quick steps across the hall inside  Wandering souls in each other, they confide Ebony arches moving amongst a sprinkle of lights Like twinkling stars, as each partner holds on tight Loose falling tresses and shadowy skirts red Gliding to the melody without a word said As the time moves into a sleepy daze Into the night we see ashen haze As the dusk transcends into night Midnight soulful shadows appear in plain sight -San

Warm Embraces and Echoes of the Bandoneón

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  A smooth Spanish melodic sound Rhythmic Tango music drifting around Gentle embraces with a soft whisper As the balmy evening air gets crisper Peaceful smiles and smooth grace Happiness on each partner’s face Quick boleo kicks whipping through the air  Kind glances and smiling lips on faces that care Flouncy skirts swishing around the floor Dancer’s eager feet yearning for more Strong cologne and mild scent As the music goes on in soft lament  Men and women tango to the beat Some dancing alone and some perched on their seat Quick steps catch up to the rhythm  Followers every step, a quiet conversation with him Lights get dim as the music gets louder Ladies quickly rush to get their shoes on powder Miradas and Cabeceos after each tanda Cortinas allow rest and then back into the ronda -San.

The Lonely Stone Statue

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Floating along on a lonely raft, Lost and alone in the sea so vast. Without a care, In and out of consciousness she spotted a fading mountain in the middle of nowhere. Floating closer glimpses of brown through the thick lazy fog she could see.  A Calloused mountain above the restless waves standing proudly. Flanked with green she crossed the heavy mountain, A mammoth task to pull herself through the thick and thin. On the edge, reaching almost the top she noticed a figure, A cold, lone statue she recognised as though it called out to her.  Not knowing what to say, She warmed it in a heartfelt embrace hoping to bring it back to life someday. Slowly she slipping off as though a push with a rough gale, Leaving it behind with a face so pale. As she fell, she stared solemnly ahead into the eyes of the cold, emotionless stone she adored, Unaware of the sorrow it had lured. Below she fell into the sea of depression to drown in her own tears, Leaving behind her worldly fears.  As...

Nature’s Innocence

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  A freshly bloomed rose, Cool morning air touches her nose, As she wakes up from her doze. Warm hands on a cup of freshly made tea, Sitting inside with the meadow outside to see. Upon a bark, a sweet hive of honey with many a bee.  On her face the feel of the cold rain, Coming in brushing the windowpane.  Deep into the meadow lined with colorful bushes goes a long lane.  Little hills covered in shades of yellow, red and green Tall trees on each other they lean; Nature’s wholesome beauty can be seen.  Shining raindrops on new leaves of pale green, Hanging from the branch to reach the ground so keen; Swirling in the fresh humid air so clean.  Wet mud and grass below soft feet, Morning birds and creatures she will greet.  Sprinkled all over the land, soft blooms smelling so sweet.  Birds calling with all their might, Flying into the clouds and towards the light.  What a wonderful feeling to behold; such a pleasant sight! - San

Winter’s Dawn

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  Crisp, frosty, cloudy mornings, Gloomy atmosphere with it brings.  Limp leaves laying on the slippery wet ground, A palate of colors to be found. Pathway through the trees to a small university, Dim light in the sky through leafage we can see. Nestled in the heart of a forest patch, An old heritage structure like an old stone church. Early morning getting drizzled with rain, Coming down streaking the window pane.  Pine trees wet with shining drops, Around bright green trees and crops.  Rays of dim sunlight falling through the thick branches with grace and ease, Coming down from peepholes around the clouds and sprawling wherever they please.  Quaint smell of pine wafting into the frigid air, All the way up a path and towards a lair.  Beside the trees, covered in white frost, Was a Bright red postbox. Partially melting ice meeting a mild golden ray, A shiny bright red droplet rolling down to lay peacefully in dried foliage and hay.  -San