Cafe Blues

Fourth In My Dedication Series. Vienne, Cafes, And Blue Hues. Friendship worth waiting.

Cafe Blues

I picked the table in the corner.

Where the lone flower curls towards the  lazy rays.

With the checkered cloth, faded blue; like your favorite dress many seasons ago.

My palm curls at the familiar warmth; a reminisce of our brighter days.

When I caught you falling off the school post; your hand firmly entangled in mine.

Whether dreaming or not.

Your earthy scent, your floral musk, rains tears along the face of earth.

It is as real to me as the gentle pull of Vienne’s voice. 

Whether near or far.

Your darkened eyes with a fleck of gold; cherished by even the heaviest of hearts.

Your coarse and wild locks, tumble weeds of fire to match your brazen soul, a contrast to soft and baritone words.

A silver lining amongst the gold; in your own right. 

These are the reminisces of a soul that longs for our past days.

Days spent as companions under Willow’s stooped head; silent acceptance that you were she; and I was he. 

How can I describe what I can’t quite understand? 

Natural, open, aura that breaches my awkward, rigid, politeness.

Your blunt and accurate taps that I soften with a breaths notice. 

We are much alike; you and I.

Dashes of colors that settle beside ; stronger and defined; you and I.

There is no blending or fading along the lines, silent underplays of hues and tones; you and I.

We are not so alike; you and I.

The sun settles into her place beneath the sea; deja kisses me.

My wooden companion, so sleek and nimble, prods my leg in silent compassion.

I play into evenings light; a most peculiar of symphony.

I have titled it; Beauty.

A timid girl strays from her mother eyeing my wooden companion.

She hands me a folded letter; a scarlet ‘s’ so very bold along the surface.

“From Her” She chirps. I tally awhile longer. “ From who?”

The child sways in impatience.

Her reply no mystery; it is just like all the others.

“She gave no name�"”

I add the letter to my growing collection.

It is a mystery; you and I.

I stroll along the banks of Vienne; scattering memories here and there.

Hoping that one will catch your wandering eyes.

Sometimes; when I play your favorite pieces you are kinder and gentler.

I see you standing on the cobbled walks of the city; having not aged a year older.

I remember what you said to me; that I was much like an antique.

How queer it is; to see you�" the antique.

Sometimes; when I play your favorite piece.

You will sit down with me and whisper along ivory keys.

But only, when I play beautifully.

It is a game amongst friends.

Your favorite piece; I remember. 

A smile traces my lips and I strain my ears for Vienne’s call. 

The tune was sad but promising.

Meet me on the banks of great Vienne.

Monsieur, Monsieur! 

She gave no name:  “Except Summer.”

The days seem bluer.

Perhaps it is the name.

Shall we give it another?

Or perhaps not.

I've grown fond of the name.

Cafe Blues.

Summer D.

Also Known As: Aisha_U

Author's Note

Making very slow progress on the dedication poems... Very slow progress. -_- I've got like fourteen more to do and about four birthday presents. *grunts*

Since I’m going to have quite a bit of time on my hands I think I can finish all the dedication poems before Spring Break approaches (Note that the date I wrote this poem was 3/19/2012). This poem was written for my dear friend Kyle P. Think of a classic, old, yet timeless black and white film. I would’ve enjoyed making this a short story but they’re dedication poems not dedication stories. Although I might do that next year on my new account (not my backup).

I know not what to say about this piece except it was a fun and loose piece. I wish I could’ve done a more detailed and reflective piece but I’ve only known you for so long [Almost two years] ... (8th Grade doesn’t count in poem sense. We were mostly trading comments and smiles.). I hope this does our friendship justice anyway.

I want to visit Paris so badly! Hopefully I get to the summer after this. I can actually go see if there’s a cafe matching my wild imagination. That would be so amazing. Friendship can outlast all barriers; maybe even death. This is the fourth in my dedication series. Hehe; so I made it beautifully sad~ I cannot help it. It comes so naturally.

I snuck a line in there; I don’t know if you’ll recall KP. It was a comment you made to me in class one day. Nope, I’m not asking you to stretch your mind all the way back to 8th Grade. A compliment or an observation...

Till then~

YT,

Summer

Reviews

[The XYZ Writer]

This poem really absorbed me in. Seriously, no kidding, I couldn't pull away. A person who is reminiscing memories of Vienne. Whether that is a place or the "she's" name I cannot tell. The poem painted a lovely image to me, of warm and lazy summer days, spent playing the wooden companion while "she" listens. :)

Sweet write.