Not really sure why Spain came to mind.
A cafe` in Barcelona in an alley where no one goes
A Flamenco dancer entertains
As rain falls on tin roofs
Inviting with her moves
Men order rounds of absinthe
The green fairy floats
The dancer looks at nothing
Platters of paella and jamon serrano are served
The music continues, the men are raucous, a tear forms
in the corner of the dancer’s eye as she recalls
her lonely life on the stage
Posts
I was doing just fine, thank you, until I read this poem. Now I want to dance (without the tears) and eat paella. =)
ReplyDeleteSomehow, I'm not surprised that it conjured up Spain...not so much Spain itself but that lonely dancer. Excellent write this week.
ReplyDelete-Nicole
Thanks Linda and I think I was hungry when I wrote this =)
ReplyDeletePamela
Nicole,
ReplyDeleteI loved this prompt! Once I sat down and started going through music. I just got in tune with Sting and he helped me conjure this up. Thanks for an excellent prompt.
Pamela
About 40 years ago, I tasted paella for the first time. I was staying in Acapulco with friends. We ate in a little cafe right on the water. I've never tasted anything that wonderful since! Here's to your wonderful poem, flamenco dancers and eating paella!!!
ReplyDeleteMarianne,
ReplyDeletepaella is wonderful and thanks for the nice comment. You should come to Puebla and visit. We have quite the variety of cuisine here, sushi, chinese, argentine, brasilian, french, italian unbelieveable! We have a neighbourhood here called "La Paz" and it reminds me of Manhattan it is just loaded with beautiful restaurants.
Pamela
I enjoyed thinking of the flamenco dancer, love music, am sorry about her sadness....but unlike others, I'd pass on paella. LOL.
ReplyDeleteA poem filled with beautiful images! A joy to read.
ReplyDeleteMary,
ReplyDeleteWell she is very sad today anyway.
What you don't like paella?
pamela
Sights, smells, tastes, sounds... They're all there. Love it.
ReplyDeleteThanks Diane!
ReplyDeletePamela
Dan there you are! Where have ya been? Thanks!
ReplyDeletePamela
Don't know why you went to Spain either, but thanks for the lovely travelogue! Fine work.
ReplyDeleteAnd I appreciate your regular stops at Scrambled, Not Fried
Ron,
ReplyDeleteSpain is such a beautiful place. And somehow I was reminded of Spain when listening to his music, not sure why? But what a nice journey. And I loved your poem. I love your work.
Pamela
Pamela, Great Spanish flavor and I like the humanity in the end.-- Irene
ReplyDeleteThe details make me want to be right there—
ReplyDeleteIrene,
ReplyDeleteThanks for the comment.
Pamela
Linda,
ReplyDeleteI would love to be there myself. Thanks.
Pamela
Pamela, I love this poem for so many reasons. Been in this back alley cafe in many Latin cities, though the dancer not as beautiful as you describe. The paella we do here has the saffron but it's missing something, maybe the music you have there?
ReplyDeleteJDM
However it came that you "went to Spain" with this poem, all well arrived. I like this poem, these images very much. Well done Pamela.
ReplyDeleteWish I hadn't read this. NPO til noon for a test, and now there's paella and salty ham to not have. I'll have to be a weeping dancer
ReplyDeletethanks for this one
JDM,
ReplyDeleteThanks for the nice comment. And I do love paella.
Pamela
Neil,
ReplyDeleteThanks for visiting and commenting.
Pamela
Barb,
ReplyDeleteThanks and I am sure I was hungry when I wrote this ;)
Pamela
I don't know how you got from the Police to Spain, but I'm very glad you took the journey. A vivid scene.
ReplyDeleteMe neither Francis
ReplyDeletethanks!
"The green fairy floats" - is it the absinthe or the dancer? I hope it's both - I love that juxtaposition.
ReplyDeleteMr Walker it is the absinthe I think it was called that in europe
ReplyDeletePamela
lovely pam =)
ReplyDeleteJanet
ReplyDeleteThanks for saying so.
Pamela