The Gingham Tablecloth & The Ballad of Pantomime

Do you remember our favorite Italian turret, and that little bistro near the monolithic castle just off the Gulf of Squillace? I showed you the mandolin from my great grandmother, the one that I carried in my satchel of dreams; we had ordered a carafe of wine with our chateaubriand, while the violin players encircled us, serenading the truths of our intimate love songs… 

Do you remember us lighting beeswax candles with wooden matchsticks, after Anastasia hand rolled them with her sister Stefania? You always loved the wicks that they dipped into fragrant White Poppy, and the nectar of Jasmine blossoms. I love the delicacy of how they delightfully perfume my thoughts. Do you recall those brass oil lanterns, with their gorgeous sanguine tartan shades, and baluster knopped stems? I serenaded your heart one evening, as if the lamp tartan was a regal crown.

Surely you remember how those oil lanterns smelled, and how we were leaning over the hand stitched paisleys, adorning the gingham woven table cloth, that I suddenly pulled off atop of another nearby table? I wrapped it around my hips like a ballad of pantomime, to show you how I could dance the Italian Sardinia, as if I was Marie Camargo, balancing my heels, and toes, not realizing the wine spilling across our lips is worth so much more than all the priceless moments in time…and we laughed, and we laughed, growing inside love’s divine vineyard…

It was after the late hours, of the moon’s whispering songs, that we darted off into the brink of nightfall, announced by the glorious kisses of the stars. Laughing in love, intoxicated by the new vintage of our souls, as we paused briefly inside our beauteous emotions, mingling with the distant laughter of children still playing Regina, Regina Belle, as you took my hand, placing it upon your chest, near your heart…

I felt as if the universe stood still, overlooking the sandy beaches of love’s laughter, as you gently knelt before me, with a tender kiss cupping both of my hands with yours, embracing my entire being, vowing your heart into the intimacy of our passions, under the waning moon light, where I then laid the gingham tablecloth, draped from my hips, onto the threshing shore of our love’s union…

© 2012 Romance Poetry by Victoria L. McColley