Dancing Leaves

He takes my heart
and doesn't know he has,
with the aperitif
the olive sinks slowly
'Red or white', he asks
I say I have no preference
Champagne would be nicer
but I'm too afraid to say.
I skirt the entrée around my plate
while he dances lettuce leaves;
I hear violins, sweet pungent tunes
and hide my eyes behind
lemon scented candlelight.
When he smiles, I see into his soul
rich creamy camembert
spread in bite size morsels.
It's cold outside, he hands me my coat
does he linger, just a second
or does sea breeze cool an ardour?
'That was nice; I've always liked this place'
I swallow air, and watch sea lights.
Perhaps he feels it too
the subtle strains of beating veins
I don't feel the cold as it shivers up my spine.
I wish this night would never end
I'm afraid that if he takes me home
will I ever find my heart again?




Poetry by Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 620 times
Written on 2007-10-09 at 11:35

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text


lastromantichero The PoetBay support member heart!
Elle they said it all your writing is brilliantly nostalgic and romantic
but i particularly like this brilliant passage with its slightly uppper crust air of grace

Red or white', he asks
I say I have no preference
Champagne would be nicer
but I'm too afraid to say.

well actually Joanna Lumley could not have put it better

Absolutely fabulous
well done
rgds mike
2007-10-12


Kathy Lockhart
your writing takes me to far away places rich in romance and nostalgia like old films with audrey hepburn and william holden. I am transported by your writings into a realm of romantic memories that i long to make my own. Beautifully written Elle.
2007-10-09