A travel treat told by the master.
It doesn't get better tan tis!

Love this, Gene! I especially like "mock nobility." And, you know I love the reference to Lord Byron. This poem is rich in texture; its mood is enticing. I sense a bit of a saunter and a very relaxed but highly anticipative vibe emanating from between your words. It's like I can smell the air of this place.

What a spectacular journey to Cascais, I wish I could be there. Your vivid imagery brings the reader right into that world. Nicely written Gene, I enjoyed this lovely travel poem.
Peace, love, and light,
Amber "V"

Gene - Thanks for the journey both poetic and literal. Love the sounds.
These lines especially stick with me, a poem within themselves,

songs of the heart improvised by
lovers in search of a melody…

- David

How easy it would be to fall in love with this seemingly sleepy town of Cascais...
The images of "rocky cliffs...thunder of the sea...cobbled streets...snifter of brandy" all make for an enchanting village to linger for a time. And your poem brings the enchantment to life, Gene!
Blessings and Love - Micke

BEAUTIFUL, VERY BEAUTIFUL, POWERFUL WORDS!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE IT!!!!!!!! Liana Margiva

So rich and beautiful, I wish I could go there.

This is a sumptious feast of a poem with imagery so lush I want to linger here and luxuriate in it! Bravo Gene!

Gee, I want to go and fall in love with Cascais the place, the woman too. I can taste the Talapia Filets and sip the white wine. Romance walks the winding cobbled streets.

Beautiful images. Yes, you took me there..."falls in love with Cascais, takes a week / to properly pronounce her name." Yes... ~leslie

Beautiful images. "Where fruits of fragrance blush in every tree" is lovely.

terra cotta roofs and alabaster walls -- this ancient fishing village in Portugal is a marvelous place I too should like to visit -- you may have my Tilapia a la Portuguesa and substitute it with Chilean sea bass a la Portuguesa -- the Cafe Negro brandy, I could suffer with easily -- Fado, I can't picture you singing, regardless of the quantity of brandy -- Fado is such a melancholy, Arabic style that must be extremely difficult for western cultured peoples to imitate -- I would not even begin to embarrass myself with an attempt -- but then, I cannot sing even western cultured music -- this rendering conjures up images of Cary Grant and Grace Kelly -- a most rewarding piece of work Gene -- thanks for sharing your love affair with Cascais -- I can certainly understand the attraction -- peace and love my friend -- Jon Michael

Never been there but I have a friend from the Algarve and your words paint a clear picture of what I have stored in my mind to this day. He is living a dream and enjoying every minute of it. Wish I were there. hugs, J'nia

Oh my...breath taking sweet Gene..sighhhh...as always beautiful writing sweet man..have a wonderful and safe day OK..Hugss
Love,
Chanti Lace xoxo

A marvelous piece; you took me right there.

Beautiful as your words create sweet music and her name is ???
Thank you for sharing Gene.

Newfie Hugs, Rose

For those of us that have had the good luck to roam on the streets of Portugal, this poem takes with it some of the scent of the country as well as the echoes of sorrowful moans of the Fado.

Georg

I agree; beautifully done, Gene.

ewwww lala..this just makes me smile..It played out in a song and dance....masterfully written Gene :)
Christine

Wonderful imagery in this, Gene; solid writing! Well done!

(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :D

Gene,
Delicate yet highly visible brushstrokes that lengthen and endure in the reader's mind...and then it's all by chance, a stumble upon paradise which has to be by far the best way to attain it...and a wicked (and wise) tongue-in-cheek ending, free drinks and "a week to properly pronounce her name."

I love this poem.

John

oh I wonder if his learning lessons for her name were pronounced in the language of love....sweet write Gene
Peace & Inspirations
Vickie

I was in that part of Portugal many years ago. This is beautiful Gene. I feel like I'm right in the middle of this scene.

village of winding cobble streets,
fishing boats bottoms up painted in aqua,
scarlet, lime, canary, other coats of whimsy,
fishermen mending nets on the quay,
tall palms, seaside golf, cozy beaches, wild
waters where only surfers venture.

This is like a painting, Gene; and the whole poem is lovely. Thank you for sharing it. Love and peace,

Regis

Methinks he fell under her spell - beautifully imaged, you take us there - thank you, Gene. Well done.

(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.

The spell of Cascais is apparent within the structure of this travelogue-inspired poetry. the town with its varied culture is easily identified by the reader as the poem is read through. Great homage to this town who showed someone love.