In the evening
With sadness words cannot describe,
Out in the garden, music played.
The frozen oysters on the plate
Smelled pungently of sea and brine.
He gently touched my evening dress
And said: “I am a loyal friend!”
And yet, the contact of his hand
Felt nothing like a true caress.
Thus one might pet a cat, a bird,
Or watch a slender circus rider…
Beneath his golden lashes, hiding
Amusement, happiness and mirth.
And as the smoke diffuses idly,
The doleful fiddles sing above it:
“O, thank the Heavens - finally
First time alone with your beloved.”