‘SHADOWS ON THE SHADES’ & ‘VENETIAN MIDNIGHT TEA NOCTURNE’ by Terrence Sykes

sc july 18

SHADOWS ON THE SHADES

As daylight comes to closure
I lay in bed with another’s lover
My gardening weary body
His blue collar exhausted soul
Yet after a slow smoldering our bodies
Entwine into a fiery falling star
I like you too much – his lament
I make tea for him while he showers
Away with the parable of the adulterous
I arise to open the bedroom window
For a dreaming amongst flowering orchards
Fragrance of almonds & quince to lullaby
As the moon shines like a pale rose
I watch him drive away but then
Draw the shade so his other can not see

VENETIAN MIDNIGHT TEA NOCTURNE

The man in 119 takes his tea all alone – Verdi Cries – Natalie Merchant

falling winds reverb the centuries
through my open hotel window
ritual midnight tea
cusp of today yesterday tomorrow
what distant isle shores
steeping origins once docked
Ceylon – Formosa – Mauritius

watching the moon sail over
Salute’s silvered light
Accadamia bridge creaks
in remembrance of tourists
yet the echo of Bembo
halts my fountain pen
into limbo

ten days I came to
forget the past
one week has already passed
but I remember
each night the rising
floods my room
from the enjamed window

across the Grand Canal
echoing emitting ethers
etchings of Pieta’
Vivaldi’s autumn
riding endless waves
though winter is not far away
longing for the other

seasons of my life
could I play them from memory
yet no violin nor fiddle
at hand within reach
drawing a map in my mind
upon the pages of my soul
endless ramblings

along the way from portals
decommissioned churches
wandering & meanderings
what treasure wash along
the canal walls
if only I had faith
to baptize my grasp

even cosmic concerti must end eventually
gathering my scattered verse
souvenirs camera
journaled memories
I rise – ajar the door
place the tea tray
upon the passage floor

awaiting checkout
spring fades into summer
purloin one last croissant
shut the entrance door
but the open window
back to this room
will never close

Terrence Sykes was born and raised in the rural coal mining area of Virginia. This isolation brings the theme of remembrance to his creations, whether real or imagined. His poetry – photography – flash fiction have been published in India, Ireland, Mauritius, Scotland, Spain and the USA

 

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