Vivaldi’s Winter
“They who sing through the summer must dance in the winter."
– Italian proverb.
He breathed a sigh of relief, the day finally over
It was exhausting, one crisis after another
Now, he can loosen up, sip a glass of wine
Listen to classical music, and later dine
The vibrant strings of Vivaldi’s winter in his ears
Soothing his spirit, spent and needing repairs
Long holiday he needs, a well-deserved rest
In the last few weeks, he’s been overstressed
He sat on a Queen Anne, soon Morpheus called
In a few seconds, he was out cold
To an abyss he fell, as consciousness departed
Nothingness, his feelings and thoughts deserted
She nudged him gently to waken him from deep sleep
Slowly he opened his eyes, tis a vision he’ll keep
A lovely goddess kissing him tenderly
Whilst brushing his hair softly and lovingly
Then he kissed her and good feelings engulfed him
A glorious way to start the day, yesterday now dim
He sat up, hugged her tight; she smelled of lavender
Timeless beauty, he just can’t take his eyes off her
Bright and sunny, when he looked out the window
Flowers blooming in the eden-like garden below
Blissful, euphoric, all feelings of good cheer
But when he looked back, she’s vanished into thin air
The world went gray, tis not morning but dark night
And he awoke alone in a room with no light
Terror and fear in his veins; he could still hear
Vivaldi’s Winter, the strings crisp and clear
He found himself in the same Queen Anne chair
The ghost of a dream still clung to the air
The lit cigarette hung from his trembling lips
His wife’s voice faded, bells from passing ships
Her face in the smoke soft and ethereal
He reached for her hand but knew it wasn’t real
She looked ravishing like from long-ago days
The beautiful face he saw in the smoky haze
But as his eyes opened, he saw the flame
She saved him again and tonight she came
Close to the edge the embers nearly fell
Sparks could have ignited a fire from hell
The cigarette dropped crushed under his heel
In the darkened room her touch he could feel
His heart still burning from love’s gentle kiss
Loving memory, lingering, sweet and fierce
But he knows quite well it really wasn’t her
The last two years, she’s been six feet under
He sees her every night in his dreams
With Vivaldi’s strings, they ride the moonbeams
He thanks his guardian for saving him again
Waking him up before fire can cause him pain
And seeing the lady he loves one more time
Every moment with her exquisite and sublime
09-10-2024
© Vic Evora
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