Evening stroll, Old Town, Chania, Crete

Evening stroll, Old Town, Chania, Crete


He was a gentleman, holding us but

a moment, smiling in simple delight

at chatting again with some visitors

to the old quarters of the Cretan town,

his, obviously, wrapped around him like

the warm clothes he wore as a shield

against the mild Spring night.


He said, “this was little Jerusalem

before the war.  Lovely people, kind

to the children, like me, playing

on these streets, often gave us sweets,”

pausing, “there’s not many left now.”


He asked us where we were from, was it cold

when we left, did we have much snow?  He heard

it was a land that was wonderfully green, except

when it snowed.  Was it true it often rained?


We parted then, went our separate ways.

Strolling those same lanes again, a bright,

gloriously sunny day, we could see signs

above a handful of doorways, realising

then it was Passover.

Revelations, a sonnet


3 crows

Revelations, a sonnet

Slowly most arrive, others not quite so,

rarely seen, that sudden flash of light;

more often our knowing takes time to grow

before the curtain parts, before dark nights

become then clear as brightest of all days.

Sailing by, walking on, dancing through,

chosen from various offered ways,

never to return, nothing there to rue.

Clearer vision then leads to clearer choice,

moments of insight, filled with wonder

can be heralded by a simple voice.

Seldom darkest clouds are rent asunder.

Oftentimes I heard simple sweet bird song

that at evening sings alone and strong.

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