The Mistress of Word Play

The vision came to me in the silent vigil I was keeping;
an instance caught as if I were not here, but there.
I saw these things through her eyes; a mystery woman
with dark brown eyes and coal black hair.

She could smell the fruit colored pungent drink the bartender
had unceremoniously placed in front of her.
The lopsided overhead lights caused erratic patterns to scatter
like prisms each trailing off to a soft blur.

There was a shabbiness to the place, a smell of putrid garbage
rotting wafted in from the impoverished streets.
The distant monsoon ever progressing had set forth an army
of torrential water which fell in sheets.

Her trip to the bathroom found the woman staring at a stranger
in the filth laden cracked mirror.
A sense of nostalgia, of another time here in this place, another
more festive occasion did sear her.

Soft music filtered from under the door and for an instant
she closed her eyes, let the moment carry her away.
She remembered Tangiers, the glory of a sunlit hour, a starlit night,
an endless dance and her body began to sway.







SultryRose's Signatures