Poems And Bio of Paul Callus
Paul Callus was born in Ħal Safi, Malta. He is a retired teacher, and has been active in the literary field for around 50 years. He writes poetry, short stories, and lyrics for songs, mostly in English, Maltese and Italian. His work has been published in various anthologies, journals and online sites. He has published 3 books (Ħal Safi, Marina, Aħfirli Natasha). Three e-books of his are Meander, Moonlight Sonata, Blind Faith. He is also a translator and proof-reader. Apart from writing, his main hobbies are reading, painting, swimming and travelling.
Free Spirit
She is a free spirit rebellious and wild
She’s changing so quickly – no longer a child.
Determined, impulsive, she gets into fights
She wants independence and quotes me her rights.
She is a free spirit now spreading her wings
In search of adventure and trying new things.
She sees the horizon that beckons from far;
Relies on the guidance of her lucky star.
But when the experience starts fading away
She finds disillusion obstructing her way
There’s home as an option to get her on track;
I will be there waiting to welcome her back.
A Moment in Time
When true love comes unexpected
Knocking gently on the door
And I open, then you enter
I stand spellbound on the floor
There is light that blinks and flickers
While the shadows dance around
Every heartbeat rhythmic music
Every breath heavenly sound.
Should I move or break the silence
Take your hands, look in your eyes?
I dare not disturb the moment
Where profound enchantment lies.
Earth Cries
My pulse is weak; it flutters while I plead
for air to give my lungs a chance to breathe.
Abuse must stop, or soon my heart will bleed.
My virgin flesh despoiled and robbed for greed,
in pain I cringe and hide my face in shame.
My pulse is weak; it flutters while I plead.
Entwined in thorns, I’m begging to be freed.
My lips are dry; they thirst for kiss of life.
Abuse must stop, or soon my heart will bleed.
These ailing limbs, unwilling to concede
defeat, as vibrant echoes numb the mind.
My pulse is weak; it flutters while I plead.
Mankind is blind, appears to take no heed.
The soul is lost and time is running out.
Abuse must stop, or soon my heart will bleed.
On verge of suffocation, I’m in need
of love and hope to sprout from hidden seed.
My pulse is weak; it flutters while I plead.
Abuse must stop, or soon my heart will bleed.
Paul Callus (Malta)