Moorish Castle

//moorish castle

In a deserted Moorish castle that crowns a French hill
in a windswept place overlooking the sea,
she explored, saw, through doors and windows with grilles,
into a cool, shaded room, noticed its privacy.

In a windswept place overlooking the sea,
she longed to touch him, gathered yellow broom
into a cool, shaded room, noticed its privacy
while she spread the broom to form a couch in the gloom.

She longed to touch him, gathered yellow broom.
She dipped water from a rain cask. It was cool
while she spread the broom to form a couch in the gloom,
washed and rinsed herself in a rainwater pool.

She dipped water from a rain cask. It was cool.
She washed her black ringlets for his touch. She moaned,
washed and rinsed herself in a rainwater pool,
trembled, thinking of his warmth, his hand in her own.

She washed her black ringlets for his touch. She moaned.
She lay daydreaming on blooms, her thoughts a rhapsody,
trembled, thinking of his warmth, his hand in her own,
as she waited in shadows cast by filigree.

She lay daydreaming on blooms, her thoughts a rhapsody.
She heard the wind, or him, outside the open door.
As she waited in shadows cast by filigree
the man with a twinkle came in through the door.

She heard the wind, or him, outside the open door.
She explored, saw, through doors and windows with grilles,
the man with a twinkle came in through the door,
in a deserted Moorish castle that crowns a French hill.