Sunday, December 1, 2019



What A Day!..

What a day to rise in glory,
What a moment to smile again,
A sweet beginning of love story
That's never going to end.

What a smell of morning coffee
Dripping down from your lips,
What a light behind curtains
Giving me a sunshine kiss...

What a word to reach my ear
Coming out from your mouth,
A bunch of joy in sudden tears
And so much to think about.

What a taste of simple pastries
I baked for you the day before,
What a thrill I'm feeling lately
When you ask for one bite more.

What a day to praise the heaven
For the chance to see the light
For awake are always ravens
Going out for a prey at night...

What if I tell you...

What if I tell you we are over
And those memories are through,
Will you lend me your shoulder
To cry on cause I'm still into you?

Give me one more extra reason
Why I shouldn't keep away,
I'm like a blind in a blizzard
Searching for a quiet place.

What if I tell you we are lovers
On pages of imaginary books,
Will you believe me rather
Than telling me it isn't true?

No one knows of the secrets
We have been carrying so far,
And a handful of five minutes
Locked inside a Christmas jar.

What if I tell you we are victims
Of the illusions from the past,
Torn from reality by distance
We turn our vows into dust...

Shout out to me what can we do
If everything's against the flow?
We stay on pages of the books
Or write the story of our own?

Down The Streets Of Monterrey

Down the streets of Monterrey
Embracing lovely summer day,
Upon the cobblestone roads
I'm walking barefoot and bold.
In the valley of high mounts,
Through the hurrying crowds,
Intrusive vendors in the streets,
I think of what is bothering me.
The colors of the distant slums,
I clench the spicy taco crumbs.
Traffic lights are winking green,
I think of what is bothering me.
These streets are so much alike
With faces peering in your eyes,
Rejected beggars stealing pesos
And mamacitas selling besos.
Newspapers torn into the pieces,
Screens displaying movie teasers,
Empty salsa box into the bin,
With the remnants of my dream.
Down the streets of Monterrey
Where the sky is never grey,
Squeezing through the markets
And talented streets artists,
I'm wearing my ragged clothes
On the way to someone close.
It's getting so hard to breathe
But I believe he's loving me...


PETROVA SVETLANA: Lives in Russia, Moscow Region. Graduated from Pedagogical University (Foreign languages faculty), worked as a translator and now is an English language tutor. She likes learning foreign languages, speaks and writes poems in Russian, English and Spanish. She likes writing poems because poetry is a sweet escape from daily routine and a great opportunity to meet great minds of the modern world, to get to know people better and give a part of one's imagination.

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