Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2015
(Geraldine was walking on the deck while waiting nervously for Fredrick. Frederick appeared suddenly while speaking quickly and gesturing.)

''I've waited for you all day long to come up with fuel.''
''I went to buy charcoal, water and outdoor lamp oil.
At a crossroad, I saw a stage driver being so cruel
To whip his horses to run faster; the oil spilled on the soil.

He drove a stagecoach; my horse was frightened by the sound
And my trolley overturned. I had to come back to buy
Again three barrels of oil.'' ''That oil spilled on the ground, ''
Said Geraldine, ''the money has gone, and this is not a lie! ''

I don't ask you to tell me where you really spent the money
It makes no sense to ask you for the truth. Is she beautiful?
Did you have a good time? To wash laundry in public, honey,
You may bring her here. This way, you can be dutiful.''

''I love you, '' screamed Frederick, '' so, you think you're funny.''
''Well, I may be funny although I'm never stupid.''
He held her, ''I sold some jewels. Take the money.
I could lie to you, but you're the one. I'm down with Cupid.''


''Do you remember that man having a ring with a skull? ''
''You've met him in Constantinople, '' ''I've met him here, too.
He was in that stagecoach liking this way his horses to cull.''
He laughed saying, ''I'm a captain in search for my crew.''

''Frederick, I want to return home at Khadjibey.
Do you remember when we've met in the port and you
Gave me an emerald cut gold ring shining at the ray? ''
''I've asked you to marry me, '' ''I love you; you know it's true.''

''Then why do you want to turn back home? '' ''You know I'm scared.''
'' This is our chance. If we turn back in that unknown trading port
For slave markets, I will not survive; I'm not prepared
To ask the sanjak bey some protection and support.


I am Italian and I saw so many things.
I saw the terrible fate of those becoming galley-slaves,
Women enslaved being sexually abused, in sufferings,
But someone living in Khadjibey is a 'plough and a scythe.' ''

'' Is this artwork painted by Paolo de Matteis or not? ''
Asked Francesca coming to them. ''What are you doing here? ''
''We really like to admire that splendid island a lot.''
''Shall we offer them a string instruments' concert, Chiara dear? ''

(To be continued…)

Poem by Marieta Maglas
Marieta Maglas
Written by
Marieta Maglas
503
   LB Parker
Please log in to view and add comments on poems