Imperfect Paradise


Paraguay.jpg 2
(a love poem)

I remember when we spoke of death,
And whispered about dreams;
As we walked along the broken streets,
Where Paradise had been.
The honking horns, of cars and bikes,
Excessive in their speed,
When it rained – the roads were flooded,
Blocking sewers and old latrines.
The hot winds from the savanna plains,
Brought temperatures close to death;
And the mosquitoes were undeterred,
By sprays and blocking nets.

But despite all the chaos –
I remember everything we said;
So tonight my thoughts are in Paraguay,
Jealous, of the broken moonlight on your bed.

© Fingleton (Juillet 2016) (Löst Viking)öst-Viking/746104845419195

10 thoughts on “Imperfect Paradise

  1. VijayNair

    Even an”Imperfect Paradise” is worth remembering if it is associated with cherished memories.A beautiful ‘memory ‘poem of love and longing.

    1. John Anthony Fingleton

      Thank you Louis…strangely I did write in the past a poem called ‘The Deserted Library’… the above poem….all this happened.

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