Peasant Surprise

Hands in my pockets strolling along,

This village is alive, I know her song.

A laugh to be had, a friend to be made,

Some how this memory will not fade.

A costumed peasant, I blend right in.

My soul glows in this second skin.

Turkey legs, bread bowls, mead around.

"Huzzah. Yea Verily. For sooth," the sound.

Yet sneakers, khaki shorts, a plaid shirt clad

Dark hair, olive eyes and skin he had.

Had I seen his face first, silent I would remain.

Yet his plaid shirt is where my eyes first lain.

"What have you done to your kilt!" I gasp.

"Ironed out the pleats, and you added snaps!"

"You've split two holes for your arms," so taught.

Those muscular arms I want to lick. I thought.

Glowing face, beaming smile, bright eyes,

A booming laugh, pure joy, to my surprise.

So struck by beauty all I could do was smile,

I bought our house and named our first child.

We kept our paces, we both walked on,

The moment was forever, the moment was gone.

A true renaissance, I was reborn present-past

I clutched my chest, it wasn't meant to last.

Remember me beautiful man, I won't forget you.

Your smile, hair, eyes; your kilt split in two.

The years come and gone, his face disdained.

But the flutter, our words, the memory remained.

Had I seen his face first no words would have been said.

No exchange of glances, or laughs, or faces red.

Once more, I smile, laugh, sigh, and clutch my chest.

Goodbye beautiful man this memory laid to rest.