It's a winter morning in Portugal.
The Sun was faintly visible like moon in hibernation.
In the capital Lisbon I was standing in a queue for hours.
A girl with a Red Jacket who came to the halt hurriedly?
We smiled each other like old familiar friends.
I wanted to tell her that I appreciate her visiting.
I was sure that she insisted on my accompanying her.
The Tram came and she got in.
It's not my destination and I remained.
Before she leaves whispered something in Portuguese.
She must have told that I love you.
Later on I inquired the meaning from my cobbler friend who speaks little English?
Her dialect meant I am already married.
I wanted to tell her the other day when I meet her that I am also married.
Matrimony is a strong bond.
Isn't it?
Memory paints a winter picture of some charm. Very nice, Nimal. Kind regards, Sandra
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I caught some of the atmosphere in this one Nimal Hope you are well, and happy Easter to you and your closest Love duncan x