The Lady Wore Red

The Lady Wore Red (Dedicated to Dorotea Baca)


The Lady wore red, slow dancing to a love song,
her scent like fresh cut juniper after a rain,
Simply Red holding back the years,
and I ask her if she will dance with me
for the rest of my life,
her lips on mine sweet rounded fruit,
my heart breathless heart
runs like an unbridled pony.

The Lady wore white, as she communes with angels
at a mountain sanctuary where miracles are mined
from Sacred Earth, her hands clasped,
catching halos of gold in the hushed light,
she is glowing with reverence
and my heart flames.

The Lady wore green, walking hand in hand
with me in an emerald forest, scent of pinon and pine
sweetly mingling in an embrace
on swirling marble under walls of crashing water,
awakened next morning by the scent of burning cedar
her kisses sparkle like fireworks.

The Lady wore blue, neon glitter in a City Different,
sashays like a devil with a blue dress on,
to sounds of "magic in the touch of her dress,
silk and satin, leather and lace, black panties
and an angel's face,"*
her nylon-enamored legs wink at me seductively
through veils of blue.

The Lady wore gray, the color of my eyes
in a sky that cries when I dropped her heart
from a shelf so high,
a priceless vase of shattered dreams,
regret shimmers in shards,
rain glimmers in tears of bittersweet surrender.

The Lady wore black, grieving for another man
I knew was tall and good, who knew how to love her,
who knew how precious her love, how fragile her heart,
yet led away before his time by a heartless harvester
shrouded in black, my own love helpless
to dry her tears, helpless to heal her.

The Lady wore red, swirling lace and bouncing curls
frame vibrant brown eyes under a Harvest Moon,
I can hear her heart beat again,
see her love dance again in the splash of her smile,
and my own heart smiles from afar.


-- Aurelio


*Steve Miller Band