Appreciated,
being thanked even some bit...

No amount of sweat, tears or blood
can ease the blues of this poet...

I saw your shadow yesterday
blown about the treetops...

Hers is a coat of many colors
vibrant as the days marking her life...

un sospiro respirato da due
Afterwards, when our love was young...

It has been one love's arduous journey
to say goodbye to black magic spells...

When I was youthful
Magic was conjuring spirits...

For youths who survive and win:
may you raise your children...

Eyes will be windows
to the soul unless you are...

Such furious haste
take awhile to grow older...

You never grow up
but if you are fortunate...

High as you are is the strength you owe:
the hand that reaches down to lift...