The bull cannot resist
the lure of the muleta.
In his last act, the matador
makes a pass and turns
the dust red. Long after
the bull goes to ground,
the senorita puts a hand
to her neck, withdraws
the steel shaft of the lace
pin securing her mantilla.
The veil at last dropped,
he kisses the only blemish
adorning her olive skin.
© 2014 Maureen E. Doallas
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The theme at TweetSpeakPoetry this month is Spanish lace.
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12 comments:
Wonderful poem, Maureen. Perfect - without a blemish.
I agree with Glynn. Perfect vignette. I can almost hear the castanets in the background.
I love first of all the story.. though I always feel sorry for the bull.. but then how you used the spanish words perfectly to accentuate the rhythm of the poem by rhymes...
wow...the only blemish....what a close on this maureen..i like the energy of the scene itself...have never seen a bullfight in person...figure its intense...a bit sad for the bull too...
the red dust lingers
with thoughts of Africa
and the clay that still clings
to my heart
Hi again Maureen, loved this piece, especially you final lines:
"he kisses the only blemish
adorning her olive skin."
With Best Wishes Scott www.scotthastie.com
lovely description
good one
for the theme
well done
Ahh..the things
a man will
do to
love..:)
the beauty
of the prize..
is beauty is
all..
This piece is a "killer"...Bravo!
Flawless Maureen.
I wonder which he enjoys more, the thrill of the chase or the prize at the finish. So thrilling!
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