Blue Pueblo
ORIGINAL PHOTO-POETRY PAGE




The fireplace is crackling

To the misty morning chill

She writes her heart in images

With a fine and feathered quill

 

Jane Austen’s writing table, Hampshire, England

photo by rich









I WAS PIRATE, YOU WERE A QUEEN

TIS TRUE ME LOVE, IT WASN’T A DREAM

WE LIVED AND LOVED IN MEADOWS OF GREEN

A ROMANCE OF FIRE, FLAMES HOT BUT UNSEEN

I WAS IN REFUGE, AS YOU WERE TOO

FROM LOVERS AND FRIENDS WHO’D PROVEN UNTRUE

YOU WERE UNCERTAIN AND WARY OF MY CHARM

DIDN’T REALLY KNOW ME, DIDN’T WANT TO GET HARMED

IN GREEN FOREST GLADES, OUR LIPS WOULD SPARK

MAKING SWEET LOVE TILL LONG AFTER DARK

WE DANCED AND WE SANG BY THE SUN AND THE MOON

UNTIL WE WERE ONE, IN RHYME AND IN TUNE

YOU GAVE UP YOUR KINGDOM, I MY OUTLAW LIFE

TO LOVE IN THE SUNSET, AWAY FROM ALL STRIFE

HOW DO YOU KNOW THIS TALE TO BE TRUE

YOUR NAME WAS EMERALD, I WAS CALLED BLUE









IN THE MORNING I WILL BRING YOU WATER

IN THE EVENING I WILL BRING YOU WINE

 

THE MOON BURNED BRIGHT

THAT DARKEST NIGHT

THE NIGHT YOU DID NOT STAY

THE PEAKS WERE WHITE

THAT BLACKEST NIGHT

THE NIGHT YOU WALKED AWAY

 

SLEEP WITH ME

BESIDE THE SEA

IN A CANDLE LIT BED

OUR DREAMS WILL WED

THEY TANGOED ON THE SQUARE

THEY MADE A HANDSOME PAIR 

THEY TANGOED ON THE STREET

 THEY HAD RYTHM IN THEIR FEET

THEY TANGOED IN THE BEDROOM

THEY NOW ARE BRIDE AND GROOM