Valentin Gabriel Cristea (June 7,1968 / Targoviste, Romania)
The house of hope
It’s getting fog over the our thoughts
shiver of dream whispers me secretly
the light spreads gingerly on branches
bunch of wings dashes in the air.
Circle blue colours in the sky
float through clouds, be lost in the distances
it’s the house of hope that calls tenderly
with large mantle, with wonderful face.
Return to the house from the distances
hope assembles in the house with fir trees
love rises through the chimney of smoke,
undulates courteously in waves.
Comments about this poem (The house of hope by Valentin Gabriel Cristea )
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