Vee Bdosa Poet Sonnet

Notes About The Poem

This Sonnet string is actually an attempt to re-write my short story WALTZ OF THE VAMPIRES, into a string of sonnets. The short story was adapted to a stage presentation in New Orleans, but sadly it was decided not to produce it on stage at the time. It is not over.

The Bombing of Dresden

THE BOMBING OF DRESDEN--    MONSIEUR L'VAMPYRE - 
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 a 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 fallings lights lit up just ev'rything.

   And lighted by Pathfinders, Dresden knew
   what ending all our world was coming to.
© ron wilson arbuthnot
aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet

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