Poem ‘Teatralnya, A Sonnet’ by Alan Wherry

Teatralnaya, a name poetic to Irish ears.

Moscow, sunny mid September afternoon
Teatralnaya, where we met.
She'd traveled seventeen hours from Zhiguli.

We walked around Red Square
She, four red roses in her hand,
I experienced emotions previously unknown
Joy, completion, satisfaction.

Twenty five years later, still the same.

In the ethereal light of a new day
I see her face beside me.
The most beautiful I've ever seen.

A gift from God
From the Adi Shakti Herself.