my adopted town pleases me so much


Portuguese Flamenco

As we sit around the table thrusting
Words out at each other
An unexpected accordionist arrives
With his knowing smile.

As he fingers his many buttons and
The dancers squeeze themselves to his music
Maria Joao edges herself to the middle
Of the throng
Where she knows she belongs.
In her unbecoming trousers and baggy shirt
She transforms herself by magic
With posture.
Her hands speak of bulls and her heels
Tap staccato hooves to life.
All her strife forgotten as she dances
Her cares away.
Her grace moves spirits well...
The fire is so innate it burns
Me to the core.








Poetry by jenks The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 556 times
Written on 2009-04-02 at 00:49

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Brian Oarr
Where's this been hiding? Somebody woke up Jenks' muse and a lovely vision appeared in her verse ... made us lick our lips, as after a salty margharita!
2009-04-02


Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
And your adopted town does you proud - really enjoyed this taste of local colour

Elle x
2009-04-02



Fantastic imagery in this fine tribute to Flamenco! yes good posture, outstrips the doudyest of attire. My old man used to say, I would look good in a bin bag, but I am not sure if he was complimenting me or not now!lol

I guess he was, cus I would have kicked him if I sensed he wasn't being a sensitive sort!lol

I want to visit your adopted town. I always did like the Portuguese.

Thanks for sharing their great culture of dance with us.

Smiling at you

Tai
2009-04-02


Rob Graber
PS: You seem such an epicure, in the very best sense; poems like this fairly glow with a refined ability to savor life!
2009-04-02


Rob Graber
Conjures up a wonderful, fleeting experience; I would swear I have seen that accordinanist with his "knowing smile"; I almost feel I AM that man! (Just replace the accordion with a guitar.)
:-,?
2009-04-02