This Sort of Thing...


A Girl of Eastern Beauty



A girl of eastern beauty at a table by the door

An acrobatic Persian performs his tricks across the floor

A uniformed old soldier tired and bloodied from a war

Looks around remembering he’s deserted a foreign corps


Extravagant concoctions of liquors, exotic fruits

And flesh prepared with flavours of the Great Seljuk spice route

A dozen painted courtesans transported from Beirut

While a charming man enchants a snake with a tune from his magic flute


Gazing ‘cross the parlour, scything dense tobacco smoke

The room entombs with plumes of fumes, exhaust from toxic toke

I watched the girl in silence, not a single word she spoke

Then tremors quaking in my heart as a sultry smile she broke


A signal through the murkiness, a message to invite

To join her in her alcove, for us to dance away the night

And when the club was closing I would grasp her hand so tight

To stay with her in paradise ‘til the break of the morning light


A Girl of Eastern Beauty.

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