Misha Allport Poems

Limpid eyes, quiet reticence
Reflections in the granite
Distant repose from my heart
Our tired souls find union
...

Quasi tactile contact and taste
A light, ghostly attempt to touch
Wet and tender, a sensuous attempt
My woman's lips-Baby, Beer and Love
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Sparkling golden eyes above a Portuguese smile
Tenders forth romantic Westphalian treasures
Bright colours, cold days and verdant splendor
Quiet, gentle, dignity on a Cearan afternoon
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It moves below;
in a tender flow;
like a quiet show;
in a difussed glow;
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The lovely green hills roll across the land
Sweet and gentle is this earth of Vietnam
A tender music guides me along the way
A girl sits by the soft riverbank
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Qin and Shu, the sons of spring and autumn
Are the warring states of rapacious kings
Dear Sichuan, gold and stone open a rift
Somber clouds threaten the Shu dominion
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Floating on the wind, an ethereal smile
Eliciting an innocent, joyous response
Etched in eternity, pure haunting echo
Our exotic fate, sensual, tender-womanly
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Swirling circles of silver glass
Precious views before my eyes
Their own unchanging directions
Eternally dancing through vision
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Erratic sea waves splash about
Swirling, uncertain, violent
Washing away ideal femininity
My traces vanish without tears
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From our sacred and medieval riverbank
Where lovers chase and flee our history
cotton fibers entreating my attention
Along a dusty, ancient and unknown byway
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