CAFE DU MONDE--POETRY

Café du Monde
I ordered my café au lait
and beignets
and people watched.
There was the old guy
in the floppy French hat,
goatee and gold
wire rimmed glasses
watching me as
I watched him.
The extreme tourists,
men in safari vests
and panama hats
better suited for the jungle
than the streets of New Orleans.
The guitar player ,
playing songs for your loose change
although dollar bills much appreciated
Couples, single men, single women.
Gay lovers looking like an Abercrombie and Fitch ad.
An old lady with henna dyed hair in Gypsy regalia.
The waitresses in white paper hats
and black bowties
with matching black aprons.
Serving patrons
seated on pea green
upholstered seats.
Reminiscent of the 1940’s.
Ivy covered walls,
And tiled terraces
Surrounded by ornate
wrought iron encasements
I depart for my next grand adventure,
with powdered sugar,
I’ll be wearing
on my black jeans
all day as a pleasant souvenir .
Bella
Nov 20,2008

Bride on the Beach

I saw a faceless picture of a bride on the beach.
She was running in the sand
and her gaze was on the lonely sea.

A tear in my eye, feeling sorry for her.

Even sorrier when I realized it as me.

Always waiting, always alone,
by myself sleeping in our beautiful home.
All the lonely holidays,
all the things I wished I could say.

Words get lost and then forgotten.

Waiting for letters, waiting for calls,
no one really knows the loneliness of it all.

Then when he is home.
He is never mine.
There is always something between us
and I don’t know why.

I am isolated in my own soul.
Always to be the bride on the beach ,
older and still alone.

Bella

Nov 20,2008