The night is young on the Yangtze River;

Light mist floats across the water's surface,

The cool evening breeze can make you shiver,

The full moon, like a shy girl, hides its face.

In the ballroom young girls swirl in a dance,

With youthful grace they glide across the floor.

To the waitress I throw a pleading glance,

Whilst the young girls bow to a warm "encore".

Gently rocks our boat at the mooring bay.

The "River Dance" show 's approaching its end,

Grey ash is getting cool in the ashtray,

Writing my daily journal I intend.

For a final deep bow the girls line up.

My coffee arrives… with love in a cup…

© P J Oszmann (October

© Illustration: Digital photograph, un-retouched, with only the "soft edges" added in

MS "Picture It". (October 2006)

Footnote:

The illustration is the actual photograph of the "Cappuccino" I ordered, served by a young and sweetly smiling waitress… and I've not seen another coffee served in he same fashion that evening… or at any other time for that matter, during the entire journey…