Shall We Dance III
After a marvelous performance at the grand finale with William Barthez, I was still not happy. All I ever wanted was to see Maria Russell by my side.
Leaving Victoria Island was never going to be easy for me. It's a place where memories had been recreated not only for me but for the entire family. The finale of the four-part Shall We Dance series.
Read the finale → Start from Part I →
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After a marvelous performance at the grand finale with William Barthez, I was still not happy. All I ever wanted was to see Maria Russell by my side.
I met Maria Russell in the summer of 2000 at Pakington village while fishing. She caught my attention at once.
Shall we Dance? But the winter storms are coming … I can only recall the first time we danced in Africa. The beats were so strong my legs couldn't help but start moving.
Would I be the sort of friend that you have been to me. A tribute to the people who show up for years without asking for anything back.
It's not the channel I want, looking to communicate to nitrogen mortal yet the presenters look in an incommunicado syndrome.
To stand owned, turn your head to the other side. A poem asking who really controls the metals, and who answers for them.
Hei Clifford, come a little closer. Come pull your chair close, because what I'm about to tell you, never will I say it again.
To love means to be fond of, to hold dear, to have a tender warm liking for. A short statement on what love actually does, line by line.
Looking up in despair, not knowing what tomorrow holds, is agonizing. On wrestling with our inner beings, while ignoring the enemy within.
In the city of seven hills, Andrew Nicholas resides. A memory of riding, of Kampala Road, and of a ridge that no longer holds riders.
In appreciating her, never set a premium on her. Oftentimes tears roll down her cheek for you. A Mother's Day piece, written for mine and yours.
Gosh, he is such a rough driver. By the malls, I am cheered and admired by other drivers, but inside this tinted Bentley, I am crying for my life.
I write poems every single day. Some are beautiful, others tell the normal stories life throws at my readers, but they are all my creative writing.