Poetry (10)

Hello Escritori,

It’s Poetry Day in Pola’s posting week! I really, genuinely, LOVE this one.

I’ve been churning out some very shoddy ones for you all lately, I apologise.

It was written whilst hearing about the destruction of Palmyra… so in solidarity I thought of another beautiful World Heritage site that I was lucky enough to visit.

Spain 2013 125

Oh, houri mine

Once, when we wed

My Beloved,

In the East,

You wore red silk

From Damascus

And were my Queen.


Slaves sprinkled

A seed pearl rain

Hails of street charity

To embellish our tale:

Beautifying its book

To the last quatrain.


Our night, my love,

Was lapis blue

Like the jewel

Of Afghanistan.

In the West,

They know it too

By the robes

Of the Virgin.


I knew it by the skeins in you,

In the blue rivers of your wrists

Crowded with bangles

Which spoke your approach.

Like tides. Irresistibly

Inspiring obeisance

In the face of

The opalescent moon.


Do you not remember

The lapis night

When we made love

In myrtle gardens?


And still,

You returned

To Al-Andalus,

To Alhambra

Centuries later.

To marvel at the fountain

Of twelve marble lions.

You wore a turquoise scarf

Rich as an Isfahan mosaic.


You passed me by, I fell, shocked

Into one of the nexus of fountains

Pattering water-music with

Birds in oblivious chorus.


You thought I was a tourist,

And laughing, you turned:



And then you were gone.

We always know each other’s tongues.


How could these walls be so treacherous

And not tell you?


Despite the signs, posted by UNESCO

You touched the calligraphy of the walls

Tracing the endeavour of a hand long past.


How could they not speak

Though I know you feel their breath

And resonance?


You paused,

Half in reverent respect

Half in lament.

Your eyes found mine again

And you blushed the colour

Of sunset on the Bosporus.


Oh, houri mine!

I know you, of old.

And would wed you, again:

A thousand, thousand times.

(© Copyright Pola Negri 01/09/2015.)


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