Urban Poet

If the old samovar could speak what tales it would tell
Of dark and snowy nights
When the tea and vodka inflamed the words of revolution
The soft spring nights of young love under the starlight skies
The summers of discontent when the land was flung into war’s turmoil
The chill of autumn when the land settles down to an unquiet rest
Through it all the samovar remained
From joy, anger, exile and death, it carries the stories through time

©  Ceol

I stood on the bridge
Above the icy water

This was the end
I could go no further

My lover was gone
I have no more to live for

One step, it would be over
Wait my love and I will join you

©  Ceol

Conversations in the darkened room
Holding each other in a fond embrace

I write of lovers’ passions that hold no bounds
But the lover of the mind excites me more

We need no physical passion in our lives
When intellectual excitement satisfies

Come my lover; stimulate me with your mind
Challenging me, enthralling me

We are intellectual lovers and
Our minds know no boundaries

©  Ceol