To A Turkish Teacher Poem by Alaa Elgadi

When a poet wonders about a masterpiece,
He begins to travel in time without cease.
“Are you really the Turkish teacher? Pardon! ,
For your wise hazel eyes resemble a poetic garden.
Your dazzling hair inspires me with a poetry volume,
Whose title inlaid with gold diffusing a vintage perfume.
Your charismatic voice is just a sixty years old- serenade,
Whose musical notes is still flying over Izmir’s coastal shade.
How could a cube of Turkish delight at the beginning of your lecture,
Draw me to the blue and white houses’ generosity of Izmir picture.
My respected professor! I am one of the surviving romantic bards,
Whose country’s is still humiliating him beyond billions of yards.
So I want to keep painting the smudged walls of my past oppression,
By composing this poem for you after this heavenly poetic session”.
Poets can be the echo of nature and the other creatures,
And those who discover their existence are the literature teachers.