avatarConnie Song

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Abstract

h</a></figcaption></figure><p id="bae8">Plans to meet at midnight, Upon the Spanish steps,</p><p id="b00e">I wore red, So that you would spot me through the crowd,</p><p id="1fdf">Although instead, You searched, but clearly could not find, and reticently took a sip of wine.</p><p id="4101">You wore a boutonniere rose, deep red on black lapel, And Grey Flannel, as far as I could tell, I thought of you, as the birds we

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re taking flight, To meet tonight.</p><p id="3c1e">Hear the violins, softly play Vivaldi, Hear the doves, they speak the language of love, Do you see me, hiding behind a marble column? Trembling that this was a quirk of fate, Can you smell the romance in the air, And should we share that bottle of wine, Ah, bella Roma, If only you had seen me on the Spanish steps.</p><p id="b2d0">© Connie Song 2020</p></article></body>

A Poem

Meet At Midnight

Upon the Spanish Steps

Photo by Chantal Lim on Unsplash

Plans to meet at midnight, Upon the Spanish steps,

I wore red, So that you would spot me through the crowd,

Although instead, You searched, but clearly could not find, and reticently took a sip of wine.

You wore a boutonniere rose, deep red on black lapel, And Grey Flannel, as far as I could tell, I thought of you, as the birds were taking flight, To meet tonight.

Hear the violins, softly play Vivaldi, Hear the doves, they speak the language of love, Do you see me, hiding behind a marble column? Trembling that this was a quirk of fate, Can you smell the romance in the air, And should we share that bottle of wine, Ah, bella Roma, If only you had seen me on the Spanish steps.

© Connie Song 2020

Poetry
Rome
Romance
Blind Date
Self
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