A Love Story by A Flamenco Guitar

Dirty fingers,
On a black guitar,
I watched in awe,
As he played a flamenco.

His tune, erupting in pain,
And pausing with bliss,
A lover’s heart
Rekindling a kiss.

His four fingers,
Chasing a joyful tune.
Two lovers in love,
Under a lightless moon …

Then a calm,
A lonely melody.
A lover’s heart,
Bleeding in agony.

Then he strummed
A violent tune.
A lover’s rage,
A heart in ruin.

Then he stopped.
Two hearts gone cold.
His guitar betrayed,
A secret untold.

Was it …
A tragic love story,
Written in tears?
Or just me
Reminiscing the years …

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what better way to start a new blog than to post a poem.

Posted on 11.07.07 to Uncategorized by erle. Subscribe to follow comments on this post. No comments yet. Add your thoughts or trackback from your own site.

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