Press play before reading. Salute.
I hope she still waits
My old wife in my old life called Lucinda
A great great descendant of the Quechuan people
Who once lived in the Cuzco valley in Peru
From which grew
The Great Inca Empire from around 1100 to the 1530s
Before they were hunted and cut down by the Spanish
Like curs
As they all cried out in pain in their native tongues
Please don't hurt us
That rebellious wild woman of such irreducible taste
Clad in thick pink mink furs
Whose bright grey eyes
Still shine I can only hope
With the illustrious glow of that illuminated flame
Which was once stolen
Like a thief in the night from the old gods
By the untamed one named Prometheus
From heavens dark skies
Which always enhanced her beautiful face
Making her look like a modern-day Morgana
The cunning sorceress
From the Arthurian legends
From where all her pagan blood probably flows
Even to this day
She still even now
Holds and controls me like a pawn on her ethereal chessboard
.
Enthralled in a grip of steel as I try to break free and takedown
Her carefully constructed walls
Which she always stands on
So proud and tall
And in these dark woods at the final stroke of midnight
Lost here in The Great In-Between
We sometimes still meet as I'm summoned by her soul
As she stands singing eloquently
In her candlelit circle in the white falling snow
Worshipping Mother Moon and watching the dark skies
As its white clouds roll
Uttering strange ancient spells
Unknown to most
As she conquers me as I come into view from the East Coast
Before I can yell
It's why I still visit
For I'm just hypnotised
And mesmerised by the delicious sounds
Of her golden ringing summoning bells
Copyright John Duffy
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