I heard pipes and drums, of men crossing fields

treading on the mist of a morning when I was sapling. 

The battle took place around my soil,

where my lifespan started, men dripped blood on me.

Their hot varnish splattered scarlet onto my young leaves.

The times, they buried men and women, drummers and fifers fell,

Children left their earthly life before they could ...

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The Sound of Blossom Falling: Amazon.co.uk: Berquez, Vincent: 9789390601097: Books

The title poem of my new anthology published by CyberWit.  

The Sound of Blossom falling

He talks of her with the simple love of a father,

describing how they walked the verdant path

and along the softness of the hardy hills

entwined in each other’s presence. 

He feeds t...

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I shall not ask for your hand in marriage without a mask on your face.

Surprises are like viruses that diminish the potencies of passions.

Do not touch my body when you brush pass me on a cool summer

evening of shaded trees and spotlighted cars rushing by who knows where.

Gather your feelings when your bloom flowers, when your jogging body

pass mine so close.  I can smell ...

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