free verse poetry

When You Are Old


When You Are Old by William Butler Yeats

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,

And nodding by the fire, take down this book,

And slowly read, and dream of the soft look

Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,

And loved your beauty with love false or true,

But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,

And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,

Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled

And paced upon the mountains overhead

And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

Photograph Credits: Unknown







Sweet-scented air,

In that flawless darkness.

Forever blazing wild;

Across the marauder sky.

A pulse in the break of quiet,

Of summer sadness hum.

Sweet-scented air,

Between the folds of game.

Cities with dimmed lights,

Fading away.

Sweet-scented air,

In my suspended hour.

Photo by: light-in-the-darkness | Source of Inspiration

The Chords of my Heart

Henry Asencio 1972 - Ameican Abstract Expressionists painter - Tutt'Art@ - (3)

The Chords of my Heart

From the back roads of my mind;

You tempt my heart to dance again.

You smiled, and said hello,

In the middle of nowhere.

And between the dark and the light,

The warmth of your touch –

Everything you are is new to me;

One more time;

The chords of my heart whisper.

Oh those blue eyes;

Hope in a starry night.


– Artwork: Henry Asencio


Compassion for Time

Compassion for Time

Compassion for Time 

The limitations of compassion,

Let me keep my heart intact.

I have touched your madness,

The curiosity for moments I cared;

But . . .

Those words made of ink,

 Will always be dark.

And words from whispers,

 Which come from the heart,

 Will always love.

All the struggles to survive;

In the distance between us -

But that bright light hiding within;

Never left your side -

So if you ever think back,

And for a split moment sigh;

Do not think twice, 

For you did not offend me.

It was our love which was sacrificed; 

Not us -

Nothing I felt was ever your fault; 

The waves do tend to lure.

Oh those experts full of words of wisdom;

Twist and turn the truths of time.

Respect the past, present, and what is to come.

For every moment is precious; may it be love or pain.

The past; compassion while we walk through thorns of time.

The present; for respect of the story we have yet to find.

The future; to keep hope alive for the moments we dare.

Strength and weakness go hand in hand.

Far from perfect; in the end.

For every day we change;

 But some things,

  I wish stayed the same -

© All Rights Reserved – Photograph: Maria Fokas

The Heart of The Moon


The Heart of the Moon 

To seize the darkness of your mournful heart

In an enchanted weakness of wicked play

You lose yourself to a fruitless path

You fear to taste the scent of love

In the weeping of time

In the sorrow of love

Many will envy all that we created –

unavailing thoughts of a distorted past

With a thread to tie a knot

But you were never meant

To keep me in an invisible grip

I wanted to paint your beautiful soul

And I did

Though I slipped inside your hunger

And fell in too deep

The odds of a raging sea

For the brave who love with courage

An inconvenient heart

 Whether they change love, or love changes them

There is no resentment to overcome

In the mesmerizing glow of my maker

I wait for you each month; a flower for your soul to keep

But until you embrace your darkness –

You cannot bewitch the soul in me

And the howling of the wolves

which play in your sleep

Will never shed a tear

For the love,

You did not keep.

 [Photo Credits: Moon Fairy Fantasy]



Black and White

©Yucel Basoglu

Black & White

 The grandest love story ever told;

Born out of each other; into every form.

Disguised to prevail against each other:

A hidden compass in my heart for your voyage –

Your waking choices, and your sleeping adventures;

And in this world; connected by the mask of time –

He seeks the reflection of all things in majestic balance.

He refers to the ice-burg as a wasted truth;

A mountain that touches the sky; upside down, he claims –

And that same sky on the other side,

Will never touch the sands beneath the oceans of you.

And though you are bound to change,

With every change of every moment –

You are still the same, my Love.

Oh, and how the Sun loved the Moon:

Forever devoted to crossing paths, but never to touch.

And some day I will know; some day in the ink of your thoughts –

And you will paint the darkness in my eyes with the light in yours.

Some day, the pauses between our notes will be soothed by your smile.

For what is music without rest between the melodies of notes?

Oh, how selfish must love become before it turns into hate;

And back into love again . . . but I have nothing to declare.

Some day I will know all the things that were left unsaid.

In laughter, and in cries –

In caress, and in vice –

You are the center of all things.

But in the end,

I may doubt all but one; you were my spark, and I your darkest joy –

– How our world would have been different,

If we could have agreed; at least on that.


 – Photograph by ©Yucel Basoglu


“Forbidden Friendship”

frame paint

Forbidden Friendship

Forbidden Friendship

Which starts with enchantment –

Which belongs to no one,

Which devours its expectations

Which feels unique at first glance

Which abides by no rules

Which traps itself in passion

Which begins to fear its existence

Which shares a weakness to stray

Which keeps secrets from itself

Which lies beneath the sins of a broken heart

Forbidden friendship; which is deadly to the touch


© Artist Credits Unknown



On blossomed branches,
Hummingbirds rest in the scented shade.
The soil is moist beneath my feet;
What an odd place to find myself –
No recollection of my treading here.
Though it is a time for mourning, neither cries, nor tears to proclaim.

A traveler has much ground to cover, and many regrets to misplace.
I should have stayed with my first certainty:
With no expectations, I would have been spared –
As mountain-tops squander their flawless spring waters,
Lovers ignore the passing of Time.

And with my end so near, I could have shared some truths;
Had it not been for my forgetfulness, to save me from my youth;
But I have always found comfort in soaring above the clouds.

© Maria Fokas/ March 4, 2016/All Rights Reserved

Shattered Pieces of Time

Neel 02 01 2015 Abstract Photography 2

Shattered Pieces of Time by Maria Fokas

Last night, you held my hand
We flew below a golden sky
At a distance a faint melody
A familiar touch; a soft sigh

Out of my sleep; Uncertainty
Has love been cursed again?
All possibilities fade away
No expectations; no apparent fears 

My eyes tire; I can barely recall
In a world where time is scarce
Why do we dwell in losing?

[Love that alters when alteration comes
was never love at all] 

But . . . my friend. 


© Maria Fokas 2015/All Rights Reserved – Photography: Neel 02/01/2015 Abstract Photography

A Thousand Years

A Thousand Years

It happened on the thousandth year;
From the center core of all our tears
It stirred the darkness into light
Souls were born from the depths of night:
A raging struggle; just to hold on
Like grave many times before

With doubtful eyes he smiled at me –
But one cold night, he could not sleep;
My hope had touched his lips
Out of the dream he ran to me
But time had given up on him

That mundane morning:
Like the journey of a butterfly
I awoke, with no more tears in me
My darkness had surrendered

By the Sea;
By the Mountains;
By the winds in our dreams;
I was set free

© Maria Fokas 2015/All Rights Reserved – Picture by