Saturday, August 6, 2011


Andulusian nights
Dusty days
Magical evenings 

Spectacular mornings
Lutes playing soft refrains
El Cid 's poema epico
Chanted in courtyards
Of stone 

Ancient days of a Reconquista
Hidalgos lounge

Wearing silk shirts
Slow decay of an empire's grandees 

Hemingway's passionate freedoms
Guernicia's innocent
Labels falling like bombs

Bull fights in Roman arenas
Stallions running across marshland

Sanguine wine liquid rubys on linen table cloth

Franco's tenure of corporate oppression
Lorca entombed
Mass grave unknown
Passions fade
With tourists scorn

Flamenco of a nations heart
Deaths companions still saunter country lanes
Clinging roses climb hidden grinning skulls 

Arabic memories captured
In stone braile of history
Castile's keeps crumble
Under noon day sun

Anejo topped Pyrenees
Cool breath for hot dusty plain
Roncevaux's knightly dead
Still guard its portals  

Basque people cling to
Hopes ancient before
Roman Legions 

Gypsy minstrels promenade
Through Barcelona nights
12 String guitars echoing history 

My home of stone walls
Orange tree courtyards
Dusky hued women
Where empires were born
Sundered and died

Conquistador's children
Rub elbows with Jewish philosophy
Eating pastries prepared by saintly nuns
I ponder thoughts of poetry
Did Abraham ibn Ezra's cloak cover my Spanish Sky?

DS Baker

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