Knysna Forest Skies Feb. 1987
(For Lynn, wherever you are)
Prologue:
All the stars are shining
In the sky tonight
Come morning,
They’ll all disappear, it’s true
And maybe life’s just like those stars
Blinded by the light
I know you’re there
Just simply out of view
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Once I loved a gypsy lady
With midnight eyes and raven hair
A little strange, a little crazy
But beautiful beyond compare
I met her down beside the ocean
Drawing circles in the sand
The moon was full and she was chanting,
Words I did not understand
I knelt beside her for a long time
Captured by her haunted sighs
And we made love there, for the first time,
Small waves breaking between our thighs
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Through the city lights
And the whorey taverns
I played guitar, she sang the blues
In denim tights, or rags and satins
I never saw her wearing shoes
But always stoned and going nowhere
The highway soon, became our friend
And many a mile, we roamed together,
Two dandelions, on the wind
And all the days we spent exploring,
One another, soul and mind
Unrepentantly ignoring
The dangers that we might unwind
And when our heads were full to bursting
With too much love, and too much wine
Still nothing seemed to quench the thirsting
That bound her restless soul to mine
3
My fondest memories, of those sad times
Were of a place called ‘Paradise’
Deep in the old, enchanted woodlands
Beneath the Knysna forest skies
An old log cabin gave us shelter
From the howling winds and rain
Our only blankets were each other
And three long months there, we remained
I still see her in the moonlight
Her face so pale, her eyes remote
All huddled up against the long night
In my old ragged, seamans’ coat
Ah but when those warm, berg winds came calling,
To some imaginary tune,
She’d lift her dress of rags and satin
And dance for me, beneath the moon
4
But soon the calling of the highway
Like some old slide-trombone refrain
Had come a-whispering down that skyway
And it was time, to move again
I took my guitar and my jacket
And looking southward, to the sea
I led her sadly from her forest,
Back to the taverns- naturally…
5
Then followed nights, of total madness
I can’t remember too much more
Just ragged streets and ragged faces,
Strung out each night, on someone’s floor
Lamplight shining on the oak trees,
Glistening in the evening rain
Stumbling down the cobblestone streets
Full of acid and cocaine
And sometimes strangely, looking ‘round me
With complete lucidity
And knowing all these wasted people,
Were mirror-images of me
But all the looking back and sighing
Could never make it right, I knew,
Something we’d touched, too much was dying
And there was nothing we could do
One night she took, without a warning
The remnants of her sanity
And somewhere in the hours of morning
She walked straight out,
Into the sea.
Epilogue:
There is a time for every season
There is a night for every day
There is a rhyme for every reason
And a price we all must pay
I have no way of ever knowing
Where love begins, nor where it ends
But when those midnight, winds are blowing
Something in me understands
…Ah, but those nights we laid together
Listening to the lullabies
As the wind, played through the heather,
Beneath the Knysna forest skies
Copyright John Scott 1987
Comments
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Ahhh...
Sweet dreams and lullabyes
the wind that sighs beneath those skies.
This is what I came here for.
You never cease to amaze me.
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Thanks for taking the time to read this Ani, I'm so glad that you did.
That's a very nice comment btw
John
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oh my word john, this is the finest thing I have read in a long long time, its so damned haunting I can see the whole thing, its just utterly utterly beautiful, reminds me a little of the song, where do you go to my lovely, not sure why, actually yours is better, but i has the same haunting sepia like quality, seriously why are you not a renowned lyracist, you have soooo much talent
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Thanks Theresa...
your comments are always so very generous, so glad you enjoyed this poem, it's always nice to know that someone else can find something meaningfull in my old poems
John
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it is really beautiful and interesting, it could be a story! i love this. she sounds like one of those kinds of ppl you only find n dreams...
awesome, glad you pionted this out!
kAsSiE
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Thanks Kassie...
for taking the time to read this poem, it was written a long time ago and reflects a part of my life that I guess I'm not too proud of yet those were the days, and looking back, I don't regret them, life is life and you gotta love it no matter what...
John
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John I find your writing just so honest, down to earth and eloquently beautiful.
Anytime I read your poems, I'm always left feeling so deeply touched and moved by them.
I love the WHOLE poem but esp like the lines..
"And many a mile we roamed together
Two dandelions, on the wind"
"I have no way of ever knowing
Where love begins, nor where it ends
But when those midnight, winds are blowing
Something in me understands"
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Such a nice comment Jesaan...
I appreciate every single read and comment that this poem gets, as it's a very special story and took me quite a while to put together, yes, way back twenty years ago now...but although those were crazy times, they still hold a special place in my old scrapbook mind!
I thank you sincerely for taking the time to check it out and once again, for the touching comments
John
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Such fervour within this song for Lynn...at the beginning you portray the natural enchantment...the engaging in the togetherness of journeying with and within each other...
....liked the tasteful phraseology of small waves breaking between our thighs...as if the motion carried you both ashore to the same strip of paradise that you refer to later in the song...
...you add more motion and movement with her dancing and add textures re the textiles...the imagery has clarity...
....all these wasted people were mirror-images of me...reflections within reflections...it's an honest man that can truly see a reflection of himself that he doesn't wish to see...
....she took the remnants of her sanity and walked straight out into the sea...oh this made me ache for her...so lost that she should seek to be submerged in the waves instead of finding solace in her soul and peace to let a part of her life wave goodbye...
....the first stanza of the epilogue is a song that could surely be sung by everyone....
" There is a time for every season
There is a night for every day
There is a rhyme for every reason
And a price we all must pay"
That's profound dear poet...yes we can find a rhyme for every reason and that is why every singer has a song...after light there is dark and after the dark there is light again...but the price we pay for what we procure along life's highway may be exorbitant...orbital...valuable adding taxing a kind of a VAT that the soul pays to the devil instead of to the Government...
Such a sad song...some gypsy spirits travel together across hills and highways and enjoy new vistas through different windows that are shared...but the solo traveller that leaves a heart behind broken to the extent of a trombone playing a slow refrain...that is the truest of blues...
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My lady Soul...
Once again you have travelled to the burning core...the heart of the matter...and with practiced gentle hands, have analysed every emotion and feeling and graciously presented your interpretation to me with tender loving care; as if I had sent you a package marked "Fragile"...
I return the compliment with sincere gratitude; for your time, and every astute observation, and kind word
John
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Excellent
Well my friend, this is truly excellent, and quite a coinsidence. My great grandparents were true Romani Gypsies. The feelings that emerge from this wonderful write are amazing.The freedom of heart that dwells here is actual. Always keep your pen heading in the right direction, and this is that direction. Bless you for sharing with me. ...mal
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Very kind of you...
for reading, and commenting in such a touching and encouraging way...my sincere thanks to you Mal...John
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So touching ...
and I'm glad that I came back to this one, for you have shared a tale that was a pleasure to read. I have a fondness for the gypsy way of life and have wrote poems about them myself (feeling I must have been one in a past life) ... Do not hesitate to write more of these kind of poems for 'long' is what adds to the mystery of reading and books are much longer to read but can't compare with all that you shared succinctly with this poem. Very nice! j y
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Very grateful...
for your comments Joy, this ia a true story written in 1987, but actually occurred back in the 70's sometime, it's my way I suppose of "purging" myself of traumatic stuff y'know "laying the ghost..." I have to write it out, that way I re-experience it all, and then it's OK...does that make sense...well that's about the closest I can get to it anyway...thank you for your generous and thoughtful comments, I appreciate them very much,
your friend John
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Wow John! This is a smogasbord of a poem! You have definitely lived the "free spirit" life style outwardly! Me...I have only lived it inwardly.
I love these lines because they are truth:
There is a time for every season
There is a night for every day
There is a rhyme for every reason
And a price we all must pay
Most exellent John!Pam
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So glad
You got around to this one Pam It's one of my own personal favourites, it has'nt received much attention; I thank you darlin' for coming out, for spending your time so unselfishly John
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Brilliant
Thank you so much for suggesting I read this poem. I have gone through it twice, and no doubt I will return to this many more times.
It is mournful, yet so rich in the descriptiveness of that connection between gypsy souls that find just the right person at just the right time for that wonderful season of need.
I could hear the song inside the poem.
Well, it's sheer genius in it's entirety.
I could offer no suggestions, as it's perfect.
I can hear hominca, guitar and visualize every aspect of this union.
Beautiful...and at the moment I hushed by the feelings and comprehension it inspires.
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Thank you Maddie
for taking the time to read this, I'm so glad you enjoyed it, and I really appreciate your wonderfully encouraging and supportive comments
kind regards
John
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Capturing
I usually don't get into read long poems, as i can find they dither..
but after the prologue i couldnt stop myself. The stanzas flow brilliantly, and you managed to capture a very deep and emotional experience but still make it very readable to alot of people.
It feels like something out of a book! And thats a very good thing.
Well done i loved this poem and cant wait to read more...
K x -
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xxScarlet-Nightsxx
Thanks for reading, I know what you mean by long poems, i've a similar tedency to skip them too; recently i've switched to shorter poems for the precise reason; however, I have always essentially written long stuff, i call them sagas or epics or whatever you like, they're like stories, so I try not to dither; I always wanted to write stories but they always end up rhyming, anyway, mow I am dithering!!
I'll put a couple on sometime, see what you think.
I need a favour, I cant get an answer to my question: how do I select the printing colour to match the background of a poem IE: I have a black/dark background but the print always comes out black, so you can't read the poem!!!
I see that you guys write in white, green, blue etc.,sorry to bother but I gotta get this right
Thanks for your time
humblpye
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I still preferred the original background but but didn't know how to change the word to white
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