Our Own Paradise Poem by Luningning Minguez

They say it was a place
Of colorful butterflies
floating around virgin waterfalls...
It is not!
Or whether those butterflies
Glow like faries
With sparkling tails
Singing and dancing in the air...
It is not!

On sunrise...
It is the pair of twinkles
From those bulging eyes
That greeted me
As I opened my eyes...
That is!
Where the music of love
Scattered through
Those earless
Large and tall trees
Sorrounding the bamboo strips
We usually fell off
Beside that life of running well...
That is!
Or that young mango trunk
Lying in the ground
As we enter this
Whole exotic place...
That is!
The evening paradise!
Where music of moans
And sighs... and tears...
And laughters and 'I Love You's'
Exchanged in the middle of
Seemingly endless
Cool moons...
That is! That is!
It was the peak of mountain grasses
With mild rocks scattered everywhere
Like the stars
That usually covered each night of
Bonfire and boat counts
On viewable paint of
Evening sea below...
The lights...
The waters...
The fireflies...
Perfect! !
That is!
Our own Paradise!






*This poem is dedicated to my late husband...*