She grew up on the English Riviera.
Girls in beautiful summer dresses flock through the city.
I’ll never forget the first sight of her in rose tinted sunglasses
Under a summer sun, stunning with her framed eyes;
The charm of a perfect face beneath her wedding veil.

White blouse, blond hair
Rose lenses, black frames,
Tinted lenses, tiger frames,
Collar tips, leather bag,
Black skirt, bare legs.

Holding cigarettes with diamond rings,
Cruising white nights in a white Ford Capri,
Whilst she says “Tell me, honey, you’ll never leave.
You can be my magpie, I’ll be your shiny penny.
We can go anywhere, wherever, wherever free.”

She put on her glasses and sees the world she fantasises
Some exotic coast, with blue blue waters, and white sandy beaches
Or that city of lovers, artists, and movie shakers.

Lighting roll ups on velvet sofas,
Knocking vino jars next to bronze statues,
Blowing playing cards off bottle necks,
The Italian plates viewing from the walls:
History never knew we’d be coming.
Breathing tastes like old cabinet glasses of malt whiskey.
“Open up those butterfly doors, baby,
Didn’t you say you missed me.”
It’s only us and the sun, our city’s shining patron.
I said “shall we go to the opera,”
In the evening, we’d be swinging
Down bars to hear the singing
You made and I still
Got that rattle throat of yours still ringing
Through my soul.
Baby, you were an all-round hitter
You had that voice that would send spring to summer
And you put words together that I never thought could make verse.

You remember kissin’ in the pool that summer
With the garden lights dancing round us on the water
You said you never tried this, thought it would be special.
Intimacy in your room was never as pretty as our expectations told us.
Romance never came with us.
“Take off them glasses, sweetie,
Sleep here tonight.”
Kisses in your room were sweetest under moonlight
That silver streak, stony blue, that reach through your window
And was the only blanket that covered us.

Chandelier sunrise.
Dear God, baby.
You swam circles in the pool
Like your living was free.

Like a child hiding a smile behind a flower
Then wishing it to be seen
You’d rarely let your eyes be revealed
Fantasizing through those rose glasses.



2 thoughts on “Rose

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