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| POETRY IN ENGLISH |
| Compiled by Ernie C. Turla, B.S., A.B., M.A. |
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FLASHBACKS OF MEMORIES GONE BY
by Ernie C. Turla, May 15, 2006
The glistening dew on a garden spider's web
reflecting the resplendent sunlight on a cool early morning
The gentle breezes whispering their notes
on boughs in harmonious duet with cicadas there that sing
The sight of darning needles hovering over a grassy meadow
where little grasshoppers idly frolic in sweet abandon
The magical scene of a wonderland by night
when a host of lightning bugs put on a show for fun
The redolence of joy brought by sampaguitas in bloom
And the ilang-ilang leis that freshen the air with fragrance
The laughter from striplings catching mudfish in a brook nearby
The chirp of church birds scampering on tinted window panes
The sight of monarch butterflies fluttering on fields and gardens,
And of dashing bumble bees that buzz their way through flowers
The crowing of roosters heralding the dawn of another day
The sound of serenades a quiet evening quite oftentimes offers
The rural smell of carabao dung laid near a neatly piled haystack
behind which stands a modest paradise of bamboo and nipa palms
The awesome feeling up on a hill overlooking the vast fertile plain
that flourishes with everything from camotes to sugar cane
The mouth-watering scent of hot "pan de sal" from a bakery shop
The savory taste of raw crab pickled in brine and oh how so soothing
The fresh milk in a bottle corked with a rolled-up singed banana leaf
Those delightful burps from sarsaparilla root beer I'd been gulping
The sound of raindrops as they pitter-patter on the rooftops
The thoughts of nice people I happened to cross paths with in life
The smiles of old familiar faces, all the friendships I treasure so dearly
The fiestas with carnival rides, beauty queen shows, and street parades
The majestic view of the fabled Mt. Arayat each time I took a little trip
A landmark rich with folklore that have not died with the passing time
And of the old Pampanga River where folks and I have often sailed along
And of verdant fields spread around, I can but poorly express with rhyme
All these so nostalgic and so romantic to the heart and mind
As I reminisce with fondness what used to be a part of life and space
Back in the pastoral isle that nurtured me during those innocent years
Now preserved in a bottle, that time while I'm alive, can never erase
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