Category Archives: Short story

If you have obeyed your parents


photo:Santa Claus Saint Nicholas Kris Kringle

Written: © Maxima

Saint Nicholas

Mother was moving around the kitchen table, kneading the dough with a great skill, then rolling it… it seemed to last forever. It was warm inside. The earthen floor, a big stove with logs piled at its side and our cat Pero, dreaming lazily close to it. Father named him after a friend of his, a miller with big moustaches. As usual, I was under the table, teasing the cat with a piece of thread, wishing he would wake up and play with me. It was the middle of the afternoon and Father came in from work.

– Hurry up, Mata! Close the door, Mother shouted. – It has to be warm. Otherwise it wouldn’t rise.
Father closed the door quickly, smiled at her under the brim of his hat, his eyes gleaming as he said, It wouldn’t rise, huh?
– You, little devil, aren’t you ever gonna get serious? Your boy’s here, under the table, playing, and you talk gibberish.
– Calm down, he said, I meant no harm.
– Me, neither, she said, pouring some brandy into his favourite glass. He used to have one or two every day after work, for better blood circulation, he would say.

– Hey, Stipa, my pumpkin, what’s up, he addressed me. I was already climbing up his back. It was my favourite spot. I enjoyed sitting on his broad shoulders and ruffle his thick hair…
You know, Stipa, I noticed children washing their gift stockings in the other village, getting ready for Saint Nicholas’ visit. You have been good this year, haven’t you? You might get some presents, too.

-Hm, maybe not, Mother added. Saint Nicholas knows everything, he knows who did what and gives presents accordingly. If you have obeyed your parents, showed respect to grown-ups, helped around the house…if you haven’t defied your sister, have been a good pupil at school, then you may expect some presents.
-But I don’t go to school yet. And I have been a good boy, right, Dad?
-You have, my boy. Have you prepared your stocking?
-He has. He put it up at noon, said Mother and began to close the shutters.
-No, Mother, I cried. Let them stay open so that Saint Nicholas can see there are children here…and I, I love getting presents…

In the semi-dark room shadows started a magical dance, swaying like birch branches in the breeze. Mother finished dinner and set the table… At that very moment the clang of chains was heard below the window of our warm home.
-Krampus, said Father.

Dusk In Your Hair

I look at
our happy home
on the coast, it is enchanting.
Some small shells and a few snails,
a window with a view of the sea
and you
with a song on your lips.

The flush of sun, dusk in your hair
and grains of sand on my face
reflect the joy and unparrelled beauty
of your eyes, my dream weaver.
I’m coming for your kisses,
your innocence, the joy of rapt loving.
I surrender myself entirely to the
beauty of your being.
I love you.

Written: Maxima

Love Is What You Can Feel

Written: © Maxima 

Love Is What You Can Feel

Hidden,
Then revealed
By the moon
Our desires
Are intoxicated
They blend into one..
Wrapped in the soft
Cloak of tenderness
We sing the songs
Of love
Endlessly
Putting smiles on
One another’s face
I love you

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POEM 13

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I Long For You

THE CRADLE OF MY DREAMS from maxima on Vimeo.

My dear friends and lovers of my poetry,
I am going to present my book “The cradle of my dreams” is finished it will be presented here on Friday, October 24th.

Written: © Maxima

Rain’s sneaked through tree tops
And a pile of white stones
Scattered by the road
Miraculously lighting
The cold street lamps
In this gloomy dusk
Silence everywhere
But my heart,
It’s pounding wildly,
My beautiful angel,
As I walk through
This magical world of desires
The world ruled by you
And only you, my queen
Getting closer to you…
Diving into my longings
On the pillow
Whispering softly,
Kissing the trail
Of the wet kisses
You left there last night
Your laughter scattered
All around the corners
Of the room
Still echoing loudly
Kissing you…
In this late autumn
Your sparkling eyes
woke spring in me
Watching you
Entering dreamily
The blaze of my hopes
As lying on the soft bed
Sprinkled with sighs
Muffled by our kisses
My soul echoes
With your voice:
Come, my teddy bear,
Come, honey,
I long for you
Can’t get enough of you,
Your tenderness…
And I, my beloved,
I live for you
And our blooming mornings
You’re beautiful

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