The Windmills of my Mind


A mother and her child sit quietly on a ledge
Looking across a vast space filled with air and people.
The people are breathing and the air is moving.
I name it gentle breeze with all my eloquence.

A woman and her man exchange looks standing still.
Her kind words will make him see the bell. How it rings!
Learned men say that sound moves through air like a wave
Then it beats on the drumskin pulled across a small cave.

When I want I can remember the sequence of wise quips
In the words of a psalm like the gulp of a drink.
That sweet wine was very nice and I agreed to say thanks
To the friend who gave it hoping that I'll like it.

Furtive looks sometimes feel like daggers in the night
That would appear to be real as it did to Macbeth
As he did meditate; most terrible and lonely deeds.
Some would say intention may well be all there is.

No nymphet cast her glances my way this morning.
It's not that she would flirt but there is a problem.
Usually when eyes meet, it's so brief. It's scary
How she can take a hold on my mind and my soul.

Unbridled love and joy photographed on a SUV
I did see as they waved, not at me, but they smiled
And they smiled. Two minutes, then they went on their way
To do what they must do. I just said, "Auguri."

Bevagna, 4 5 2008