Not To Beauty Blind
“Sweet decadence,” she said,
“has long lost its charms.
I left my rich friends by the river
to find shelter
in what is simple and what calms.
I have no wish to write a novel
about those I left behind
or picture them on canvas,
though their eyes were clearly open
and not to beauty blind.
You sit there and you listen,
to speak you give me freedom,
that is rare, that is kind.
Do you always sit in corners?
Does shadow suit your mood?
Have I been talking on too long?
I wish not to intrude.
It seems time has conquered us,
and all the clocks are over wound.
Perhaps we could leave this place.
No one will notice. We barely make a sound.
I will keep my lamp lit,
whatever happens now.
Only you saw it shine,
the star on my brow.
The circle is still unbroken,
our people never lost.
It is just that we were scattered,
and now we count the cost.
We recognise each other
when we meet like this.
We will always be together,
if what we seek is bliss.
Some think I wear my dark blue hood
to hide my silver crown.
My boat waits in the harbour,
soon I leave this sea shore town.
Let me tell you something
before I pass through the door.
They always looked smudged,
so they never shone.
The jewels of Babylon I never wore.”
I wondered why she spoke to me,
after she had gone.
I smiled on my empty coffee cup,
too full to have another one.