She sat there smoking cigarettes,

in a sort of home made hell

and through the started layers

of smoke that floated free

her eyes flashed from a ravaged face

as she fixed her gaze on me.

 

Why have you come, what do you want

I’ve nothing left to give?

My beauty has long vanished from

the life I used to live.

And while I sit alone in thought,

I live those years again,

Thinking  of those who shared my youth

in glory  or in  pain.

 

No longer do they stand in line

to hear my songs of love.

Or wait transfixed in awe to see

the beauty of each move,

in dances of the Seven veils,

as one by one they fell.

Revealing each sweet limb and curve

as my soul was bared as well.

 

Oh sorry fools your folly was

the thought that I saw you.

Or cared if any one at all

was there my form to view.

I lived in my own dream world,

which I thought would never end

and now it’s gone, my youth is spent

and I am all alone.

 

Oh dancer of the Seven Veils.

Sweet singer of lost love.

I too did dream alone and lost

but never made a move

to tell you what you meant to me,

mortal that I am;

while  you a Goddess glorified

beyond the reach of man.

And thus my youth was also spent

but still my love untold,

burns in my soul, bright searing pain,

as your story you unfold.

And I am glad, that now at last,

I may offer what I can.

To a Goddess, no, a woman.

From me a mortal man.

 

 

David Garlick, Victoria, February, 1991