Love and War

Far from the Parisian Pavillon,
in the golden glory of its playwrights and poets
(love, first learned in the lady’s eye)

***

Hemmed in on all sides is my humble, stone château,
contained by the cold blue waves of the sea.
Come, forgive the mess, and stay for a while:
Lets have dinner, what will it be?
Let me bring you cold wine, hard cheese,
and perhaps a crust of bread.

***

I must confess, I know more Bonaparte than La Belle Cordière,
and have spent many hours hearing the doleful, quiet sea.
(shall we dance, madame, cotillion or quadrille?)

***

This military man,
I met on an anonymous journey,
but parted ways thereafter,
lest he betray me to Château d’lf.

***

So let the the battle snares play on, love, and the battle commence.
For I’ve found my song, found my war, and found my prize.


- Adam Taylor Green, 2012