I have now officially finished my English Literature essay entitled “Names in Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights“, and gotten it nice and ready to be printed and handed in tomorrow. To reward myself of this, I will post here a poem I wrote last spring. It was inspired by the gorgeous landscape of the Douro valley and the little village of Cimbres. And then spiced up with some all-too-syrupy loving. At least it’s some happy loving, this time!
Sometimes I wish I could jump into a story,
just fall into a dream,
into a land (un)like any other.
Where the world is formed in mountains.
Where the air stays pure and
the sun shines bright.
And if you jump high enough,
you can almost touch the sky.
Where a river flows between, below,
and houses sprout up here and there
like mushrooms on the shady hillside.
And I would be there
on those lonely sand roads
under the burning sun,
holding your hand through the sweaty days
as the only thing that could separate us
would be a nice light breeze,
running past us, tired,
dying soon with no one to hold.