Elena Sandu Biography
Am I a poet?
Who knows? Myself, as such, how could I see?
Have I one clue of how to write sweet poetry?
My tiny words, are nothing more than little tries to learn of whispers from my heart. More often I let my pen dance, fast and free, with no imposing rules, the only thread to follow, ~a wish to be~ of words images and memories, each longing to get caught, frozen, kept for a moment more. I have no idea if can get one smallest part, one tiny dot of those almost unconscious instinctual thoughts coming from between the worlds, still, am happy and content, for, all that matters,
I have tried.
Lost kisses lost kisses
With the wind may fly
After finding him sleeping
On his shoulder you lie
...
From today, March 1st,
This sunny day,
To 8th of March
Most women of my land
...
Romeo and Juliet
Loved each other much
But for their family's sake,
Kept out of touch.
...
The minstrel of hearts
with tears behind smiles
the sound of cracks
a life that sucks
...
-Good morning sir!
To the man
who blocked her way
a little child said.
...
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6/21/2025 8:12:24 PM # 1.0.0
