Monsieur L'Vampyre the Bombing of Dresden
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This string of sonnets is where Monsieur L'Vampyre was born, at the time he was known as Herr Gueterin von Dom, a vampire from Rumania, who made his home in Dresden until the allies bombed him out on Valentine's Day 1945. He winged it, as vampires are able to do, to a chateau near Poitiers in France, where he took up residensy and became known as Monsieur L'Vampyre, a private investigator who had serious nose trouble. His sister, Madamoiselle L'Vampyre also moved there and together they harrassed everyone in France and the Eastern USA. "L'Vampyre" it is their name, and they know how to spell it.
MONSIEUR L'VAMPYRE - THE BOMBING OF DRESDEN
There was a night, I still recall it now,
as winters cold had turned to soft and mild,
and gave us hope, that time would still allow
the passing by--of death--as death was filed.
What manner of a beast, or tyrant king,
would set the path to bring destructions fall
from out the darkened sky, who dare would bring
such catastrophic death to one and all?
Was not my Dresden safe from what was heard
of cities to the north--they fed the flame;
these questions yet remain, who gave the word
that made the good and bad turn out the same?
All evil justified and made in haste
is evil just the same as any waste.
I'd only just returned, in my own way,
within the dark from Paris, where I be
caught up with joy of liberation day,
when love was made alive and running free.
But lo! My thirst was filled, before too long,
my heart grew weary to be with mine own,
so in the dark my flight was swift and strong
and ended at an inn that few have known.
Perched on a hillside looking down the plain
from off the balcony, the Dresden lights
gave glimmer to a cold and drizzle rain
a beauty unsurpassed by any rights.
Invited for a night of talk and wine,
I settled in with this new friend of mine.
And so we wined and danced--into the night
not thoughtful of the war, though raging on,
and Gretchen, lovely Gretchen, felt my bite
upon her neck until her soul was gone
and part of all the loves I ever knew
so thus she came to be one of my own;
and shaken, we both did as lovers do,
and stared into the night for things unknown.
Quite suddenly the groan of engines roar
though distant, filled the night, and deafening
and over Dresden, telling what's in store,
the Christmas trees lit up just ev'rything.
And lighted by Pathfinders, Dresden knew
what ending all their world was coming to.
© ron wilson aka Ron Arbuthnot
aka Vee Bdosa the Dolestown Poet
Copyright © Vee Bdosa | Year Posted 2015
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