he and Pamela... one Madrid afternoon...

She came
In her dark blue jacket
And blue skirt...
Perfect...
A thin gold bangle on her left wrist
And white collar neatly placed...
At table twenty six
She came straight...

he seeing her
Signalled
The bellboy
And ordered
Goat cheese
And omellette...
And of course the afternoon tea...

She sat down
Calm...
Composure writ
On her face...

he by then wrote a scribble
On the white paper napkin...

She sipped tea...
The afternoon in Madrid...
Looked pleasing...
The cafe looked at peace
Though other few tables had people...
Laughing...guffawing...sneering...jeering...
Loud...unprovoked...
Too gaudy...too showy...

Pamela looked at ease
he too...
with his poesy...
Busy...

Pamela drank tea...
Her eyes noted the paper napkin...
She said nothing...

After twenty minutes past three
She
Got up...
Running late perhaps for some work...

'Madrid's lanes are very clumsy nowadays...'
she remarked...
And while she was getting up
he noticed she
Taking the paper napkin
With the scribble...

he said nothing
Barring standing up...
Showing courtesy...

And soon after she left...
he ordered the bellboy to bring in another cup of tea...
he thought he needed to write...
Just he got an idea...
It just clicked
In his white mind...

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

How many times, love,

Still remember the day