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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I sauntered in an evening mist A midnight's heaven, magic-kissed Lamp-lit raindrops pattered, awesome Shining city turned violet blossom Enchantments I could ne'er resist. Adrift upon the Paris, proper Wandered I, a Yankee pauper Until a Latin damsel's ride Paused, as she pulled me inside (Not that I had mind to stop her). Away, into another world She and I were thusly hurled A night of excess, spinning fast Absinthe sweetened our repast As did lips, and tresses, curled. Club-to-club we smartly hopped More green nectar if we flopped Pushing tenders to their rations Just to fuel our backseat passions On-and-onward, 'til we dropped. All seems dream now, in my mind Still, I'd swear that when we dined Famous folks from ages hence Were with us for our merriments And all the mischief we could find. The best of writers in their day Zelda, F. Scott and Hemingway Gertrude Stein and Porter, Cole Pined, polemic, from their soul Life and love, the friendly fray. No discourse was too far-fetched Others, too, who talked and sketched Pablo Picasso and Gauguin, Paul Dali and Man Ray, surrealists all On, the wilding hours stretched. Ever poured the emerald potion Crazy cogs in constant motion Clouding, thick, the mental fog Far beyond the hair-of-dog Glasses raised for every notion. Thus it passed 'til all went black Awaking days hence in my sack Believing now that all these things Were just a night's meanderings Or the ramblings of a maniac. I set my mind to purge it all Grabbed my phone to make a call Then spotted on my bed, a note Within the pocket of my coat So I crumpled it into a ball. You see, I recognized the write I'd seen it on that misty night When, with absinthe, we'd our fill And Hemingway had signed the bill. So I sauntered off into the night ... Too scared to find out ... if I was right. * FOURTH PLACE in the "Dreams" Poetry Contest, Nayda Ivette Negron, Sponsor. *
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