Giorgio Veneto (Athens, Greece)

There is a world out there, forged,
dimensions wangled, time stupefied;
becalm pace, as our memories lied,
- September rain on ground bogged;

Contemplative solitude, on dialogue
that kept you yon, merit of sacred,
odes emitted a sadness that lasted,
- an ulterior rain reflecting your fog;

Years maintained a notable reason,
our disruptive, steady, typified stills;
twas our celebrating runs on hills,
- crazy kids I recall, a Fall season.

Our laughs climbed on white clouds,
thoughts danced on winds' upheaval,
kind your staring on feasts primeval,
- where sun rays erased our doubts.

You fled new, on my paths to fiddle,
waving hands, like then you saluted,
my ocean trip as your smile diluted,
- all rain drops that fell in our middle.