Just back from Istanbul, this week’s poem can only be about that awe inspiring city, and the happy days spent there is company with my family. Our unguided morning walks were one of the many delights
.
Istanbul morning
.
Birds fly for pleasure, flashing light from morning minarets
Lace up and run down stairs leaving guidebook and map
Drawn like pilgrims to floating domes and ancient towers
Blue tiles and the genius of ancient architects
.
Stride along city walls built, torn down, rebuilt by long forgotten hands
Stones in palace walls speak of princes, born to death, power, or madness
And elegant garden trees swaying in whispers from the Harem,
hooves ring out and crowds cheer in the hippodrome
The sun heats up and across the water colossal cruise ships threaten a flood
We dodge down narrow streets, returning to drink too deeply our first coffee
Coughing and laughing over pomegranate juice, olives
and other Turkish delights
.
.