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Friday, April 26, 2013

Dancing moonbeams at the chateau

 I am on my way to see my girl at the hillside chateau. I feel like a schoolboy again. Nervous and yet vigorously energized. My feet tried in vain to keep pace with my heart. {{{quiver}}} Perhaps tonight a kiss. We shall have a drink in the last booth, the only one with a window that is not painted black. Although it had been darkened so the Gestapo cannot see the candle-light and semi-festive atmosphere, they found the place anyway.But they do not bother the keeper, so long as no American propaganda is spoken.
I will find her easily; she is the only dame in the place that the candlelight dances in the eyes of. I sat one night and stared for hours as the candles grew dim in her eyes and the glowing streaked down her face with each tear. She is so beautiful. I am lucky to have been shot down in the area. And if Geoffrey and his lady had not pointed me in this direction, I would never have met my childhood love. Amazing how destiny seems to work out.
As I enter cross the threshold into my “escape,” I see the fire in her eyes. She smiles and moves toward our booth. It was “her” booth,until I came along. {{{smiling}}} As we touch hands, the bartender brings our wine. He moves away and we turn our attention back to each other. Our love is spoken without words as we gaze into each others eyes, souls. I wonder what she is thinking. Perhaps the same thing as I; “When will this damn war be over?When will the world find peace?”  We turn and catch a glimpse of the moon through the tiny crack in the glass. A tiny beam of moonlight screams into the dark chateau and dances on the table as the band starts to play our song.  We take a sip of wine and then step to the dance floor dance. The night has begun…

© April 26, 2013 ~ DBC, Duke of the Arctic

NOTE: photo courtesy of PaM
 
 

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