Newfoundland

Newfoundland's your name

Melancholic land, full of stories.
Embrace with your colorful houses,
the coast adorned of sun birds.
You bathe in salt waters
and you get dress with cotton fog.

I like walking your waist
overlooking the infinite horizon.
You become from winter caterpillar
Covered with white heaven dust,
to a butterfly spring,
Opening your colorful wings in the sun.

And you call us to take the liberty
In your landscapes of rocky cliffs,
Among the trees drawn
And clouds against a blue summer sky.

Your streets are a poem
every time when I walk;
your people have sky brightness
Steeped in his soul.
Fishers of legends and tales
sharing ancient traditions,
they put aside the pain, and laugh.
They drink and dance with Irish blood.
Until the afternoon finish.

Winged woman eyes,
blue , brown , green ivory.
I go caressing your senses
to the center of your being.
I captured you in thousand pictures
I fall in love for your simplicity,
for wise witch is your beauty.
With passion let me love you.