Peasant Surprise
A memory reborn again
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.
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