Reality Knocks In Madrid

I wanted to stick out my chest Rise tall and arch my back Standing there listening to the fest hard pressed To click my heels to this fiery soundtrack So mesmerized and in love with Spanish Flamenco from afar I was compelled to go to Madrid to become a dancer As my ears were bound to the strings of Segovia's guitar Portraying the pride and glory of Spanish Prancers I found two spoons to replace castanets And taped some change from my pocket to the bottom of my shoes I clicked, stomped and tapped like a dervish - still wearing my sweats Transported like a churchgoer that had too much booze I opened my mouth to let the explosive wail blossom out It sounded as if I were dying and in pain Not like the Catalan singers that muse with their shouts More like a cross between a howling puppy and an owl gurgling in the rain Shocked! by the sound my adventure came to an end As soon as the recording and I came to its conclusion But with the love of it all I was ready to begin it all again Except for hitting the floor and suffering a catastrophic contusion It just goes to show that we can be anything we want In the limits of time and well being But calamity is destined for misplaced Debutantes Whose grasp is vain and best judgement is fleeting July 21, 2019 H.W. Longfellow Inspired Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Julia Ward