Paris, the Wounded No mere city is Paris, not just a metropolis, City of sanctuaries like the

Our Army Disciplined, silent and strong, our Army is there all along, Always ready its blood to

Oracles for the Third Millennium Two thousand years go back in time And then eight hundred more,

Benediction for Lebanon As Peter came along our shore two thousand years ago With apostle’s zeal to

Brother Monk, Lover of the Fields Favored land of welcome, land with open arms, Whose seasons send

Black Clouds of Doom Black smoke that swiftly rises, striped with gray and white, Eruption overpowering, destruction

The Aircraft of the 25th Hour A scene of Apocalypse when barely in flight, Fire in electric

The Isle of Flowers Indies of dreams, rose-covered West and atolls of beauty, Sprung up from the

Gaza 2009 2009, when the new year came, Peace we had hope for but war played its

Leila, the One and Only (Homage to Leila Solh Hamade) When dark is the night, long without