Pythia - a poem by Chris Zachariou

Passionate Lovers' Dance

I'm in awe of Pythia—

an angry storm of raging fury.

At night, she smokes roll-ups
floating on the crest of a glass horizon;
a sweet mist rises from her cigarette—
it is the mist of her early sunrise.

Pampered mandolins - a poem by Chris Zachariou

Hanging Violin And Mandolin
photograph by Garry Gay

Often, I go back to that little street

with its lime-washed high walls

and to the silence of its olive groves

and acacia trees.

The frail priest in his withered cassock

still whimpers through humble prayers

and painted rituals, hankering for the day

he called us to the garden.

A shilling for a dream - a poem by Chris Zachariou

Outdoor Cinema

I. clandestine smiles and glances

meander to the little cinema

and from its tiny yellow kiosk

they buy a dream and tickets

for a shilling

Eurydice of the summer dusk - a poem by Chris Zachariou

mandolin

I glimpsed her fleeting glance
through the needles of the pines
and the unsullied whiteness of the sand.

Thirteen silk verses - a poem by Chris Zachariou

beauty

I’ve cast my crumbling

journal to the winds
and now only the breeze
will ever know her secret;

but the breeze, allured
by melting snowflakes
has fled for shelter
into the silence of the caves.

Three sighs before sunrise - a poem by Chris Zachariou

Romeo and Juliet

I whispered:

'There are many kinds

of oceans between us

I know but come';

and you came to the forest

three sighs before sunrise.

In the shade of an acacia tree

with newborn blossom on your breasts

and blushing leaves weaving

The harvest of the souls - a poem by Chris Zachariou

Persephone and Hades

A harbinger of woe—

a chilling knock was heard

at noon on her father’s door.

Shadow fell across the land

like the wrath of a gruesome god,
a giant stain on the scorching sun.