Rhapsody On A Night In The City Poem by Gert Strydom

(after T.S. Eliot)

It's midnight and around me the lights pulse
there own rhythm in neon flickering
as if they are a part and parcel
of the unearthly fatalistic music
in the places where pleasure and company is tinned
into the precision of the city life
as if from this point on
clarity is brought to the humming depths of the soul.

It's one o'clock when I do reach the apartment
and do enter at the front door
along with a smiling inviting hesitating blonde
with small specks of sea-sand all over her dress
telling of a evening of either pleasure or distress
and the light, the invitation in her sky-blue eyes
burn into the depths of the groin,

there's a hidden story to be told
about the now empty beach
where her companion
walked away from her without a single word
and left her waiting,

when she walks right up to me
encircle me with her arms
draw my lips down unto hers
which is soft and moist under mine
and in the nearness her eyes seem brighter
with a close-up view of the specks in them.

At two we are kissing on the bed in my bedroom,
before she rides me like an unbroken stallion
as if all of her life does depend on only
this one deed, as if everything in life is caught up
in one single divine moment.

At three she is asleep in my arms
with her long blonde hair
thrown like a golden sheaf half over my face
and to her there is great beauty,
a kind of unnameable grace
while the ginger-Persian cat
settles down on top of us
and tramples before it does lie down.

Its golden eyes gleam like windows
while the female smell and the smell of making love
smells like the rain on the earth,
while the cat dreams of the passed day,
about the birds that it had sneaked upon
in the trees in the park.

[Reference: "Rhapsody on a windy night" by T.S. Eliot.]

© Gert Strydom