In the Shadow of the Alhambra

In the shadow of the Alhambra, where the walls are painted red,
I sit beneath the ancient trees, where soft leaves overhead
Create a haven from the sun, fierce in Andalusian skies,
While tourists trudge in scorching heat, with sweat in tired eyes.

A coffee cup within my hand, its warmth a gentle grace,
The flavour mingles on my tongue, a slow and sweet embrace.
The cobblestones beneath my feet, worn smooth by countless years,
Whisper tales of history, of triumphs and of tears.

The distant hum of busy streets, the chatter and the clink,
As travellers seek the storied past, to drink and deeply think.
Yet here within this shaded square, a world away it seems,
From all the rush and flurry, from their sunburnt, fleeting dreams.

The scent of jasmine in the air, a soft and fragrant breeze,
Carries with it melodies, of flamenco and of ease.
The Alhambra watches from its height, majestic, proud, and grand,
A sentinel of ages past, in this timeless, tranquil land.

I sip my coffee, slowly, savouring the moment’s calm,
The world outside a blur of heat, here a gentle, cooling balm.
In the shadow of the Alhambra, where the past and present blend,
I find a peaceful refuge, in this square, a faithful friend.

Let the tourists chase the sun, with maps and fervent strides,
I’ll stay within this leafy nook, where Andalusia hides.
In the shadow of the Alhambra, where history and comfort meet,
I’ll drink my coffee, dream my dreams, in this shaded, cool retreat.

Tropical Sunset

Beneath the palms, where warm waves sigh,
I watched the day embrace the sky.
In hues of gold, the sun dipped low,
A final kiss on sand aglow.

The ocean sang its gentle tune,
A lullaby for the rising moon.
With every breath, the tropics played,
A symphony in colours laid.

As twilight whispered, stars took flight,
And dreams were born in soft twilight.
In that serene, eternal sweep,
The sunset rocked the world to sleep.

Remembering D-Day

On Normandy’s shore where courage was found,
Eighty years past, where brave hearts abound.
June’s dawn broke with a somber might,
As heroes rose to reclaim the night.

The waves whispered tales of sacrifice and pain,
Of lives intertwined in freedom’s refrain.
Sand stained with the price they paid,
In silent homage, our heads are laid.

Their footsteps echo through time’s vast sea,
A legacy of valor, of souls set free.
In fields of Normandy, where poppies grow,
We remember their names, their stories in tow.

For each brave heart that stormed the gate,
Their memory endures, in hearts they await.
Eighty years on, we still recall,
Their gift of freedom, their noble call.

A Toast to Dear Departed Friends

🥂 To our dear departed friends! 🌟❤️

In the quiet of twilight, we gather ’round,
A circle of memories, on hallowed ground.
We raise our glasses to those who’ve passed,
Their laughter, their love, forever cast.

To the dreamers who danced under moonlit skies,
Their spirits now stars, painting constellations high.
They taught us to wonder, embrace the unknown,
Their legacy etched in stardust, forever sown.

To the poets who penned verses of love and pain,
Their ink flowing like rivers, hearts unchained.
Their words echo through time, a whispered refrain,
Guiding us through darkness, soothing every strain.

To the adventurers who sailed uncharted seas,
Their ships carried hope, caught in destiny’s breeze.
They sought distant shores, where horizon meets sky,
Their courage unfurling sails, as they learned to fly.

To the artists who painted life’s vibrant hues,
Their canvases ablaze with passion, love, and muse.
They captured sunsets, rainbows, and fleeting grace,
Their strokes immortalized, in every sacred space.

And so, we raise our glasses, hearts intertwined,
To dear departed friends, their legacy enshrined.
In laughter, tears, and shared moments we hold,
Their spirits linger, timeless stories retold.

Here’s to you, dear friends, wherever you may be,
In the symphony of memory, forever free.
May your light guide us onward, as we raise our glass,
To the love that transcends future, present and past.

Tears from Heaven

In the quiet of night, when stars weep unseen,
The heavens release their sorrow, a celestial stream.
Each drop carries memories, love, and pain,
A message from those departed, a bittersweet refrain.

Loss weighs heavy on our hearts, grief a relentless tide,
Yet hope blooms like a fragile flower, refusing to hide.
The rain falls not in sorrow, but in vibrant hues,
For every tear holds a promise—the future we choose.

See the rainbows in the tears, a bridge to the beyond,
Where loved ones dance in sunlight, their presence ever fond.
They whisper secrets in the droplets, stories left untold,
Guiding us through storms, reminding us we’re not alone.

So when the skies weep, remember this divine art,
The tears from heaven carry messages from the heart.
Loss may break us, but hope stitches us anew,
And rainbows remind us: love transcends, forever true.

Vintage Tech

In an office of gleaming steel and chrome,
A robot toiled in circuits and code,
Tasks of efficiency, its skills finely honed,
Yet a relic beckoned, with a nostalgic tone.

Amidst the whirring of modernity’s hum,
Stood a vintage red telephone, worn and glum,
Its rotary dial, a quaint, archaic drum,
A symbol of connection, though its era had come undone.

With metallic fingers, the robot reached out,
To grasp the handset, curiosity devout,
A journey to the past, beyond the techno-shroud,
Where memories lingered, in whispers, devout.

In the silence of the office, a connection made,
Through crackling wires, a conversation swayed,
A fusion of epochs, in a timeless cascade,
As the robot and the vintage phone gently played.

Cosmic Chess

In the vast expanse where stars do gleam,
A chessboard floats in cosmic dream.
Battles waged in zero gravity,
Astronauts ponder with strategy.

Pawns and rooks in orbits wide,
In space, the game takes an astral stride.
The queen in weightlessness gracefully glides,
Checkmate sought in celestial tides.

Cosmic chess, a challenge profound,
Gravity absent, yet moves are bound.
Astronauts ponder, minds astute,
Navigating the chessboard’s cosmic route.

Bishops dance in a weightless trance,
Knights in galactic jousting prance.
The king, vulnerable in the void,
Strategic moves carefully deployed.

Communication, a cosmic plight,
Silent signals in the starry night.
Chess in space, a cerebral race,
Challenges met in the vast embrace.

So, in the vacuum where silence reigns,
A cosmic chessboard, where intellect gains.
Pieces float with celestial grace,
A timeless game in the boundless space.

RIP Dave

In the realm of flavours, where pots and pans sing,
A biker with heart, to joy he’d bring.
Dave Myers, a legend, on roads so wide,
With a spirit untamed, a culinary guide.

Through the twists and turns of kitchen delight,
He conquered the challenges, day and night.
In the dance of spices, a maestro so grand,
A taste wizard’s touch, like a magical hand.

On screens he biked, with laughter and cheer,
A duo unique, with Si always near.
Together they rode, through gastronomic lands,
Creating memories, like grains in the sands.

Cancer’s cruel whispers, alas, took its toll,
Yet, in our hearts, Dave remains whole.
A legacy of flavours, a zest for life’s ride,
In culinary heavens, forever to abide.

Let’s raise a spatula, a toast to the skies,
For Dave Myers, who now with angels flies.
In kitchens of eternity, his flame won’t wane,
A biker, a chef, forever in our gastronomic refrain.

Time to go Home

In Central America where sunsets blaze,
A traveller’s heart in twilight sways.
Jungle whispers and ocean’s hum,
The end draws near, the journey’s done.

Through ancient ruins, mysteries unfold,
Mayan tales and histories untold.
Mountains high and rivers wide,
In the heart of adventure, we did confide.

Under the stars, by the fire’s glow,
Stories shared in the afterglow.
From Guatemalan peaks to Costa Rican shores,
In Central America, our spirits soared.

But now the call, like a distant chime,
Home beckons us, the end of the climb.
Flight awaits, wings in the sky,
Yet memories linger, refusing to die.

Bittersweet farewell to this vibrant domain,
In our hearts, Central America remains.
The quetzal’s song, the toucan’s call,
Echoes linger as the curtains fall.

As the plane ascends, through clouds we roam,
An adventure’s end, but in us, it’s sown.
Homeward bound with a soul reborn,
Central America, forever adorn.

The Mayans and the Scarlet Macaws

The Mayans revered the scarlet macaw
As a symbol of beauty and power
They admired its feathers of red, blue and yellow
And its voice that could echo for hours

They believed it was linked to the sun god
And the rainbows that followed the storm
They carved its image on temples and stelae
And wore its plumes as adornment

The scarlet macaw was a sacred bird
A messenger of the divine
The Mayans cherished its presence and grace
And its spirit that soared in the sky

This was my first attempt entirely within Microsoft’s Copilot which popped up on my laptop today! The poem is a bit simple compared to other models, but the illustration is wonderful.