I wish to become
To remain in your
Wish to in your viens
To be integral
Part of you
Want to become
To become rythm
Of your life
Want to merge
My soul into yours
So we become
One for eternity…….
Melody: Tango in Ebony Classic
Music Arrangements: Allen San & Edward Khoury
Pianist: Mihran Kalaydjian ” Mino”
Record Labels: Paramount Studios
In white Spanish lace,
ebony black hair tumbling
down her back to her tiny waist.
Across the hardwoods,
we danced the Spanish
Into the night,
we danced check to
check and toe to toe.
The moment was ours,
on that warm summer night.
Toasts of red Spanish wine
to a night so divine.
But it was a love,
we both knew could never be.
Then time took me back across the sea.
The years have quickly passed
and our lives sailed by so fast.
But those moments, cheek to cheek
and toe to toe forever will be
ours, so sublime.
And here in my heart, I often
contemplate that far off place
I can still see your picturesque silhouette
dancing gracefully under that Spanish moon.
And I will forever remember that magic night,
we met and that fast beat tango tune.
You will always possess a part of my heart,
as long as we are so very far apart.
What a day!? A day to remember who has taught me, guided me and instilled wisdom in me my entire life. You have promised countless times that you love me. Can I ask for anything else? Of course I can, and I always do. As any good father would do, you do what you feel is right in whether or not I should get what I ask for.
There are so many things I’d like to tell you face to face. I either lack the words or fail to find the time or place. But in this special letter, Dad, you’ll find, at least in part, the feelings that the passing years have left in my heart. The memories of childhood days and all that you have done to make our home a happy place and growing up such fun.
I can still recall the walks we took, the games we played; those confidential chats we had while resting in the shade. This letter comes to thank you Dad, for needed words of praise; the counsel and the guidance, too, that shaped my growing-up days. No words of mine can tell you, Dad, the things I really feel; but you must know my love for you is lasting, warm, and real.
You made my world a better place and, through the coming years, I’ll keep these precious memories as cherished souvenirs.
Blue, but you are Rose, too,
and buttermilk, but with blood
dots showing through.
A little salty your white
nape boy-wide.Glinting hairs
shoot back of your ears’ Rose
that tongues like to feel
the maze of, slip into the funnel,
tell a thunder-whisper to.
When I kiss, your eyes’ straight
lashes down crisp go like doll’s
blond straws.Glazed iris Roses,
your lids unclose to Blue-ringed
targets, their dark sheen-spokes
almost green.I sink in Blue-
black Rose-heart holes until you
blink.Pink lips, the serrate
folds taste smooth, and Rosehip-
round, the center bud I suck.
I milknip your two Blue-skeined
blown Rose beauties, too, to sniff
their berries’ blood, up stiff
pink tips.You’re white in
patches, only mostly Rose,
buckskin and saltly, speckled
like a sky.I love your spots,
your white neck, Rose, your hair’s
wild straw splash, silk spools
for your ears.But where white
spouts out, spills on your brow
to clear eyepools, wheel shafts
of light, Rose, you are Blue.