Born in 1953, Sonja Smolec is a well known author of children books, giving numerous presentations and readings around her native country – Croatia. She is widely acclaimed and appreciated by local schools and libraries for her public appearances and contacts with children.
Sonja is also a member of several local and international organizations supporting art in all its forms as well as a member of the Croatian Society of Writers for Children and Youth. Being a prolific author and trying to reach a wider audience, she tries her hand in a variety of styles – poetry, mystery novels, and English poetry.
Please visit her web site: www.sonjasmolec.info
drenched with golden light
wait for the sound of my paces.
hidden in the cypress
want me to sing.
… and waves wash the stone
feeding shells with plankton.
I follow the lane
where water kisses land,
I greet the sun
asking to give its blessing
to our love,
and I scream loudly
happy as a newborn child
liberated of the labor’s pains
who, for the first time, feels
the sweetness and the warmth
of mother’s breasts and milk.
… and you feed me love.
Leaning on the edge
of the white balcony balustrade,
with the tip of my forefinger
I followed the thin edge there
where my gaze stumbled
separating earth from sea,
separating the silence of horizon
from the racket of screaming gulls.
Sails proudly followed
their own white reflections
easy going morning waves,
the land of blue dolphins.
At the top of a tree
a busy squirrel nibbled its pine nut
and I saw lovers holding hands
as under their feet
cracked by sun and salt and time
accepted their destiny.
Behind the curtains
as a precious carved boat
floating inside its own universe.
The sound of the south wind
brought me the music
and I danced
bathed by the smell of salt and conifers.
Again, I inhaled life.
Old olive tree
Your unfaltering body,
your rough bark beautiful in its ugliness
built of entangled, dark veins
like an old man’s diseased legs,
leans slightly to the south watching the sea,
breathing iodine and salt there,
from the place soft wind and rain come
to soothe you, to feed you life
at the Croatian coast, your home.
Your roots soak their water slowly from the miserly depths,
your cradle between the cracks of the hard rock,
yet, you are still here, lasting for the whole of a century.
I know, you remember some other times,
some other people, some other harvester’s hands
but, like a generous lover, you never ask what you can’t get,
there is strength enough in you to overcome all coming storms,
to give us your fruit.
For other contributions by Sonja Smolec, please follow the links below:
Poetry in this post: © Sonja Smolec
Published with the permission of Sonja Smolec