Through a Glass, Pinkly, 

I wrote this as a double iambic sonnet (rhyming optional) curiously it works better as a free verse piece. Breaking the lines changes the tempo – and the ‘broken’ version will go into my book (I expect) if it makes the cut.
 

(a glass of Rosé in Robin Hood’s Bay)

 

This was late June, maybe early July.
I was booked to sing. The cafe was packed.  
A three-legged stool available at
a sea-view verandah table. I found  
space beside a red-haired stranger.  She wore
a red silk dress.  Was this kismet at work?  
Memories flooded me: a torpid stream
of weeks and months of mornings and evenings
spent vainly waiting for my heart to stir,
and in that stirring, stirring another’s.
One heart stirring another heart? Wondrous.
Why not the heart of a red-haired silk-dress
beauty on the sea-view balcony of
a June or July Robin Hood’s Bay cafe? 
 
Staring out pondering the panther sea
I sip a glass of chilled Vinho Verde,
wondering when love’s astonishment might
over-flood me. Night falls. My soul grows dark.
I’m dulling far too soon. Must get a grip.
Check watch. ‘Show Time.’ I’ll be singing love songs.
Will my warmed-over words move hearts tonight?
I button my jacket. I look behind.
The beautiful stranger stares at the door,
smiles, but not after me. A final glance,
another man’s hand is cradling her hand –
I try not to envy their tender kiss.
Morning will tantalise with promises,
and come evening?  There will be wine… then sleep.

 

© coolhermit 2020
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critique and comments welcome.
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