Intro..                                                                         ...Back
Draw...                                                                         ..Along
Poems..                                                                         ...More







                         

                              I don't know.
                         I'm thirteen again.
                     When she's near.
               She never merges with the night.
                       She's still shining.
               If we spent the whole day together in the garden:
           all the sunflowers would turn their faces to us.
             She blinks very rarely and somehow more slowly.
                If mysterious circumstances forced us
                         to form a secret conspiracy - she would confirm it 
                                             with such a painted wink.
                                                 I could look at it carefully.
                                             I could get my fill.
                                      Then she would give me her always warm hand:
                                under which meadows sprout:
                                     and I would tell her that I love her:
                                        because I've been afraid of the dark
                                   since I was a little boy.
              "I fell in love with you Oreéne: "I would say: "I think it happened:
                     when you were walking through the irrigation sprinkler
                         - light was dusting there:
                            rainbows were raining down around your body
                                and you kept blinking."