The Southern Cross and other light verse 

by Frank Thomas Smith

The Southern Cross

Gracefully the gaucho galloped through

The pampa's waving windswept grasses;

From time to time he stroked his beard,

Black as the eyes of the country's lasses.

Orion patiently made its rounds,

Dripping dust in the River Plate,

While over the rancho, his destination,

The Southern Cross guarded the gate.

Three long days and three long nights

The gaucho galloped across the plain,

Resting only when his heaving horse

No longer could stand the strain.

The midnight pampa was ghostly gray,

Starlit by a million sources;

The gaucho flicked the deadly blade,

His mind rehearsed virile curses.

If his woman had loved another man

During his years of abstinence,

He'd kill them both with a silent stroke

And later think of penitence.

Then, like a matchbox tossed aside,

Appeared ahead his home, unchanged

Since he left it for the wars;

He spurred his horse like one deranged.

The rancho door fluttered open

Flinging out a flare of light;

A woman trembled on the threshold

Straining to see through the night.

"Juan?" she called in a husky voice

Laced with dregs of hope and dread.

The gaucho flung his knife away,

And bowed his shaggy head.

He prayed that God would forgive his folly,

And thanked the myriad stars above

For having survived the wounds of war,

And having no cause to kill his love.

<<>>

Chess and Cheese in Crete

To sit outdoors in Crete

with you and coffee, hardtoast,

creamy butter and yoghurt

after a morning swim

in the rosy-fingered dawn...

And for lunch at the bubbling port

unidentifiable sea-things,

lukewarm vegetables, cheese,

the deceptive yellow wine

churning my middle-aged blood,

In our room on the creaky bed

with the shutters open wide,

a window on the sea,

your hard nipple swelling,

contemplating it I...

One day a thoughtful Arab,

on folding up his tent

under the desert stars,

touched by the God of chess

invented and played the game.

I ask (silently, my love)

how far we are from that country,

and do we care, now,

as I penetrate your darkness

and mate your castled queen.

<<>>

Crete

The wind swept your body as it sweeps the world

My love, and I watched you.

The roiling water rushed and brought you back

My love, and I touched you.

The contoured cliffs framed your head at sunset

My love, and I kissed you.

The warm sand ran through your puzzled fingers

My love, and I loved you.

Before my sorrowed eyes the island sank

My love, and I lost you.

<<>>

The Tall Trees of Brooklyn

Tall were the trees of Brooklyn
To the borough's children.
They didn't know their names,
Except for the chestnut
Which dropped its shiny fruit
Onto rain-washed sidewalks.

They stood in tiny plots
Little larger than their trunks,
Roots spread wide and deep
Beneath concrete blankets,
Holding the city together
Under invisible stars.

The children paused and gazed
Down car-lined streets to where
The tall trees of Brooklyn
Ended their march to Atlantis.
They didn't know their names,
But loved them just as well.





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