NO IT’S NOT

My poetry is not
A word of love
With a sigh
Decorated

She’s not even fluff
Word
It flew
On the high seas of imagination

No … She’s not
No wages
Eyes sad
Imbued

The truth is
She
Life
He created

Love
Donated
Once upon a time
And kidnapped

Always on the breath
light
The beginning and the end
Desire and hope

And Heaven
A gift!

**Blue, Blue**

Tonight I’m not looking at the sky,
Everything inside me is blue
Verse by verse, memories tighten

“Green I love you green”
“Wait for me and I will surely come, just wait for me long”
“.. You stand aside, so I wouldn’t recognize you..”
and more
“…Gardener of my flower garden…”

Neither to forget
Nor to speak them

Both these
And those even more tender
They still resound
Echo of the primordial day
While I now love the sky
blue

In the morning!

July 5, 2024

Slavica Pejović

While reading between the mysterious lines I ask unspoken questions
Answers wrapped in cellophane and veils, those seven that are Too curious,
I’m not in a hurry…

Time is a measure
For him too.
And the unfinished poem
With little things that mean happiness!

And this day…
once was meant to be!
July 4th…