We began blank as the white-washed houses of Alentejo,

Strangers with a clean slate of heart between us,

Yet we were drawn together with colorless brushes

Dipping into experience as passion rushes

We striped our history like the basalt trim of the Azores

Then thatched our affections like the roofs of Madeira

All while drawing nearer.

We stenciled our saga with love and romance

Complex and engaged like terraces of the Algarve

Filigrees of entanglement we continued to carve

Azulejos we became, colors in dance,

Like shimmering sea waves crashing on shores

Of a rapier thin isthmus

Deeply into each other, destined to go.