La Dame en Rouge


This is the Lady in Red that swells my heart.
She bears my hair, my façade, even my Creole hue.
We laugh in unison like the lyre and the pipe.
They accompany the dance that is our hype.

Oh how perduring empathy, and beauty becomes this dame.
I could never shed a single tear for the days of old.
Her spirit, like the dove, is abound for His name.
It is kept in the place I take refuge from the cold.

She no longer needs sanction in grain and wine.
Her nude love prevailed and she now carols in the temple.
Through the umbrage of oil I notice her silhouette.
She smiles in my humble favor. I shall never forget.

"Hail Mary, full of grace," I now shout.
My foundation is imminent in ancient garb.
The rose of roses has claimed her time.
We shall whisper love orations till the end of time.

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