- Sheffield Knife Poem by Georgios Venetopoulos

We stood across the ship's black painted brim,
forever faint appeared the beacon's light,
imperfect night; the stars were shining dim,
(moon-flash of steel and twinge of Sheffield knife) .

The birds' were singing in the mauve of dawn,
my resolution's and communion's chrism,
the images, back then, became my dome,
the light refracted in my truth's cold prism.

So fast the margins of this route dissolved,
advancing wilt, recall your distant stare,
for none was this equation to resolve,
the wine's red spill and stars' marquee of prayer.

I'll sail alargo of the Aden coast
assuming that the blooming fields are mine,
a flash upon the dock and I became a ghost,
a challenge and the blade's departing shine.

I do recall our sweetest Sunday feasts,
the teenage dreams and blue noon skies,
our bicycling along the shoreline's mists,
the nightly gatherings, our talks and smiles.