#1 (Across The Crystal Seine)


ACROSS THE CRYSTAL SEINE


Across the crystal Seine stood I
Admiring His finest artwork
A girl about my age with sublime blonde tresses
An enchantress, with a cherry aura
Looking at the azure sky
Sitting on her ever beautiful shanks.

So mystically enthralled was I
Something rose in my heart
A vehemence, so strong
With an urgency of desire
Just by admiring an artwork
Of inordinate finesse.

Soon her eyes met mine
An excellent shade of turquoise
In dissimilitude to the aura she
So vividly possessed
And soon did I realize
Her matchless place in all humanity.

We met upon the Pont Dame
Knowing nothing of each other
But of our eyes that we locked
Only a short while ago
The hormones raged, relentless.

She spoke with a voice I
Couldn’t place with her soft tongue
A voice full of pain and grief
Each syllable a story
Like a bird in agony trying
To free itself from strong steel.

A pain that I was desperate about
To know the cause of
To help this boon of beauty
And to know about her with
An interest rendered by her
Ever impeccable character.

Her name was Emma, and
A tourist, as was I, wandering
About the streets of new Paris
Came to know of her beloved lover
Beaten black and rendered red by
The goons in and about his residence.

Reassurance, I tried to give
So desperately did I want to hug
This pained artwork of beauty
But all I heard was mourning from
Her mouth, her sweet mouth
Contaminated with despondency.

We sat together on a sidewalk trying
To accompany her, fearing I would lose
A fine exhibition to tears and grief
Clearing her eyes, I introduced myself
As also a tourist to this native place
An outsider from a British town.

We made lots of talks on
A wide range of topics she was
Delighted to hear my opinions on
Unaltered, as was her self being
I cheered her by making jests
So cutely made was her smile!

She thanked me for cheering her
And asked me why I did so
I blushed a subtle crimson
And heard her exuberant laugh
A laugh that I shall come to acknowledge
Now, like a melody from that of my wife. 

F. Julian

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