Poetry Escapes Me (El Cotillo)


The room has old windows, flung wide to entice the starlight in.

I am cross-legged scribe on the bed, to your languidity,

And poetry escapes me.

Scratch thoughtfully, offer me wine from the bottleneck, 

Lay back again and long for your guitar…

The view is a neat square of planets, voile fringed, fluttering.

I find a horse, with flying mane and noble head

Galloping across my page, and crosshatch squares.

Asking after your murmur, you say again

‘Ambience is kept in the mind and soul’.

‘The candles are much surer than the electricity.’

‘We are just two travellers, disturbing the geckos.’

‘The ocean pounds through the night like lovers' hearts.’

‘There is an ancientness here I merge into.’

The room is softly dark; musky scented, heavy aired,

Daybreak will see fishermen returning in risky boats.

Women will weave, and the fragrance of new bread

Will rise in tempting eddies on the breeze.

The buzz of mopeds will scrawl across the morning,

The church bell will chime its timelessness.

You let the wine spill carefully, I drink;

Words become breaths become kisses...

Love is a journey, and small sprigs of offered jasmine,

A drowning into skin and contentment in a small room

Where poetry escapes me.