The Real-Some of my favourite things

The Real

Kids playing in the yard.

Mother smiling and calling up for dinner

Wagging tail of a dog,

who wants to go for a walk

again.

Words of poet, that cut the very fibre of reality

gently

but thoroughly.

Orgasmic convulsion of a Woman,

but only if she is real..

Not a photo, of a photo of photo,

of an idea,

of something that you heard you ought to like.

Fresh smell of Burek

on the streets of Sarajevo,

and the Eternal fire;

that has always been there.

Even before

they lit it up.

It burned the hearts and souls of the people;

and that my friend

is NOT a metaphor.

The still wet green grass of Ireland,

on a cliff somewhere

without a name.

That could spell like "eternity".

The taverns where the fiddle is still played,

and people, despite the drink,

are still real.

The volcanic rock

on, in and OF the Land of Ice and Fire,

and the Elves, watching from behind.

The smile of Sun Summoner

and the crazy, winded story

I call my life.

These are some of my favourite things.

What are yours?