The Maiden of the Main at last - does she? -lets Ol' Khayyam rest his lovesick soul on her flanks...

The Ruba’iyat of Créteil Lake - Part Nine

Staring sun perches on Créteil hillock hump and dazzles lake
Waves slop through tingling streaks of furrowed light dance quake
Blinding nuclear fissions in a cloudless cinematic sky
Sparse streaks of ephemeral jet trails cirri overtake

Over the wings of silver shafts flutter in the distance
Two troupes of gulls some on wing others squat circling aisance
Where eddying currents trap bream and trout going berserk
Ashen yarrow tuft fur heads lean over complain nuisance

Single-mast sailing boats across her breast to and fro streak
In Parthenon pillar curves chart their collision free trek
Aranjuez violins and guitars serenade the lake
As the light-footed Maiden of the Main skips for Khayyam’s sake

There on her luscious tresses the Bard lay stretched in her curl
His eyes glazed from too much wine and pining after one girl
While she lies cloaked in dreams of golden spires and marble domes
Worlds where nectar words with absinthe in phials gently twirl

Tingling spring sensations invade the lake’s deciduous stench
To remind Ol’ Khayyam of his infernal thirst to quench
All that glitters lasts not even a single winter’s day
Yet at dusk Créteil Lake stirs and winks one sly eye, the
Wench!

© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013