ILLUSION

I lit a cigarette, by window sitting,

lost in my thoughts my gaze before me drifted,

around my head smoke clouds to dusk retreating,

my soul by florid reminiscence wafted.

When – maybe by the flight of thought uplifted

or with the rising blue smoke tide abetting –

a young girl’s form my far off gaze was greeting,

pouting, a pair of smiling lips she shifted…

How beauty charmed her locks forever sable!

To kiss, to kiss, to kiss, her sensual calling –

what strained in twain beneath lace braiding able.

How in a joyful dream the head spins, reeling…

I blew the smoke… Oh woe, oh woe apalling!

Dusk coldly barren squinted back, unfeeling.