A spring summer afternoon *

Tea, being our favourite liquor,
Her and mine, oft, at spring summer afternoons
Will i find her, lavish , sprawling , like a canvas,
Wearing a hat, bonnet, to save her beauteous face,
From tans, and also to keep in order,
Her flowing cascading hair,
Sitting on a chair,
In our garden,
Holding her cup ,
Of tea, aromatic,
Darjeeling,

But perhaps
Being called by some,
Her children,
(And mine too, as i tend to Imagine,
So love laden, ),
Looking a way,

And her face,
Like a side profile,
In Innocence wrapped
And painted,
(Like a Victorine,
Perhaps,
Whom once Giorgione
Painted as Dresden Venus,
Beauty Perfect,
Symmetrical, such, )
Before my eyes
How e~merge,

And i, the forever rivery waters,
Flowing flowing, not stopping,
Get into ,again, finding Her,
In the skies of ours,
So limitlessly Vast,

She appears like Angelica true,
In her works and her leisure too,
With her cup of tea,
Bonneted thus,
spring summer afternoons
Through her as gently pass,

I just look at her,
Till i feel, I am no longer in me,
Till i feel, I have gotten to the Lea,
Of our wonderous life, our merriment,
Our never ending poesy, paintings and
Few thousand years of Peaceful Solitude.

(*Note: upon a painting , done by Angelica Privalihin, courtesy: Alex Artista, Musica Pittura e Dintorni)

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