The walk, the climb, the food, the wine

The hugs and kisses, the passing of time

The stories and history, & the history we made

The adventures and chances we gave in to one day

The wag of the tail, that hostel cheer 

The well travelled friends who lent a ear

The dance, the song, and the lovely cruise

The church, the mosques that time lay bruised

Those well worn shoes spoke of happiness on cue

The art, the spice and the sweet tea ensued 

So far removed from the facade within

Istanbullish, I was – living at a whim

Istanbullish, of course – a free lark again

Istanbul, my love, I’ll have to love you again. 


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