The seasons of love..
A Chapter by Coyote Poetry
Old memories.
The seasons of love..
Late August 1978. My Scotland Beauty and I were enjoying our last days and nights together. She was an auburn hair beauty who stole my heart in the Early Spring. We drank, danced and create a life. She was working the Summer in Germany and she needed to finish her college in Scotland. We made great plans for love and marriage. Last day of August, I was waiting for Sheena by the Boebingen small lake. I was sitting by the lake and reading some Jack London. A beautiful German stood above me and she asked. What you reading Johnnie? I looked up. A long blond hair beauty with river blue eyes were watching me. I held silence surveying perfect legs and body in her see-through white Summer dress. I told her. Jack London book “When Gods laugh”. I asked her. You know my name and I don’t know your name. She smiled and she told me. ” I have been looking for you. You have forgotten me. At the Spring Festival in January. You promised me wild nights and great love. If you don’t know. You are famous. You were the beer drinking champ of the tavern and the wild man who loved the girls. We danced, we laughed and I held you till the morning lights. You escaped me in the morning. Are you afraid of the German girls? My name is Daniela.”
Daniela, she left me breathless. She was a perfect German girl. Eyes of blue, tall, long legs and robust breasts. She was a tempting woman. She was filled with confident and she had a voice of an angel. I told her. I remember you. You carried me to your home, wrapped me in a blanket and you caressed my forehead like a little baby. I did escape. You are too beautiful for me. Mistress love is dangerous and can be so sweet. She will tempt you and give you everything. Bring you into a self-made prison where heartbreak is the final place. If I held you too long. I would be addicted. I know wild and free spirits. You are a wild and free lady. No-one will own you or keep you. You would be the keeper.
She smiled and laughed at my words. She asked me. “Am I siren or muse dear Johnnie. Remember love that is slumbering in darkness. Become a heavy load to carry. If you don’t attempt the temptation of touch and kiss. You will always wish you did. When you seek more than beer and song. Please come find me dear Poet.”
Sheena arrived at noon. She was leaving for her home in two days. She was my Spring and Summer love. I told her. I wrote a poem for you dear love.
—
My Sheena..
I have adored you my love since the first I saw you.
You were a Summer rose on a cold Winter day.
I re-arranged my life to find you and know you.
You have become my first wish and last wish.
We have sung, danced and allowed love to grow.
Please be my lover today, tomorrow and forever”
—
She fell into my arms and she cries. She whispered to me. Johnnie, my sweet. Please wait for me. Please don’t break my heart. I told her. I would die first. Her fingertips roll over my bare arm and to my face. I took her hands and I kissed them. I told her. I will miss you everyday and I want you to do well in school. I will here, yearning and waiting for you my love.
Chapter two. The seasons of love..
Sheena left me in early September. The last days were filled a combination of happy and sad moments. I was twenty years and she was twenty also. I believe she saw the devil, I was. I started drinking again. The Germans knew how to party and drink. I got lost in the German beer and song again. I had nine months to wait and with each day and night. Pretty German girls came near. We smoked cigarettes and talked. Shared kissed meant little in Germany. The German girls were generous and kind. I liked the logic of the country. Enjoy life, dance and sing. Enjoy today. The year 1978. Filled with rumors of war and hate. Tomorrow wasn’t guarantees.
In late September. I was drinking alone in my favorite tavern and the many whiskeys and German beers had me lost in the wind of confusion. I was trying to soak-up some happiness from the song and the drink. I felt a present watching me. Daniela watched me from a distance. Her face distance and sad. She was plotting her plan to stay or walk away. I pray to the tavern God. Please pretty lady leave me be. She was wearing short black dress and shoulder less blouse. Her hair laid freely to her back and her blue eyes make me feel weak. She came to me and she wrapped her arms around me. She whispered in my ear. “I know you love another and I don’t seek love. I seek to know you. I want the laughing American to be my friend. Maybe we can find secret place and some kind of salvation. Let’s entwine our two life together. No payment due and maybe you would enjoy?
She handed me a journal. She told me. This is for you my Hemingway. I want you to write and recite poetry to me and we can find wild and stormy nights, drink sweet red wine and find the utopia where lover’s love without regret. I wrote you a poem in the journal. Please read to me now.
—-
Dear Johnnie..
I want us to make the God’s jealous.
You and I.
Dance, sing and love the days and nights away.
You shall be my Hemingway and I will be your Beatrice.
Please stay with me and find places where we can be free and wild.
—
Too much whiskey and beer make me weak and her blue eyes create a madness that I couldn’t stop. Her gentle voice was a toxic for my chaste heart. I told her. Love cost great payment. The body always wants more and more. If you taste sweet honey. You will want some more and more. Love will find us willingly or not. Gift of flesh and kiss. Can lead us to dark places we will learn to need and worship. She gave me a small smile and she whispered. “All of us need the education of kiss and touch. I understand the payment. If you are afraid. I can walk away. I watched her blue eyes. They were like stormy sea and I told her. Daniela. We will learn hell and heaven. Is it worth the heartbreak and the payment due?
She kissed me and she told me yes.
Chapter three. The seasons of love..
We left the tavern and she held my hand tightly and the night was warm. She took me to the Boebingen lake. We sat by the lake in a needed silence. I held her tightly. I put my face into her hair and kissed her shoulders.. I told her. Damn Daniela. What do you want to do with me? She turned her face to me and she whispered. “Let’s allow time to tell us. We are young and free. Let’s dance, sing and make love. Forget the naysayers and let’s create places where lover’s know peace and calm. I want us to discover what is life? What we truly need? Better to be foolish than wished you did.
We left the lake and we went to her apartment. She stripped off her clothing and she put some Leonard Cohen song on the record player. She danced to the deep voice of Leonard Cohen. She went and found wine glasses and some wine. She came to me and she laid her head into my lap and she whispered. I have been wanting and waiting for you since we danced at the Spring festival and in my imagination. You and I. Were fearless and gentle lovers. I caressed her face and held her breasts. I told her. You are a dream and a nightmare. If we go any farther. We cannot return to who we were. I took off my clothing and we laid together. Our skin to skin and gentle fingertips roaming wanting skins. She allowed me to taste and kiss her perfect skin and body. We drank the sweet wine and she smiled and she told me. Your hands danced upon my tender skin and you wandered and tasted my secret places. Now I want my hands to roam and my fingers upon your skin. I want to drive you into madness.”
I told her. If we don’t stop. Each kiss and the opening of the body will lead to everlasting need. I love your pale skin, your long legs and the softness of your body. You are perfect art and I want to write a thousand words upon your yearning skin. The merciful release will make me wish for you day and night. She smiled and she whispered. “Dear Poet. You make love so sweet. Holy as love the ancient Poets wrote. The kiss and embrace as wonderful as the Fall wine and the first kisses. I desire you dear Johnnie and please allow the conversation to be silence. Time for us to know the delicious feast love can offer. Please take me away to untamed places and allow the kind night to allow us to know joy and passion.
My Winter love was Daniela. I told her often in the coldness of Winter. Love cannot be defined. Real lovers long and learn till they cannot no-more. It is better to make no promises. Promises are made to be broken. The irony of love is the love cannot be stopped or controlled. With the emotion of love. We cannot win. Jack London wrote once. “The Gods always win. Men are greedy and never content. Luck and folly to the all of us, who loved love over all things.
She wrote in my Journal.
—
I love you Johnnie.
I want you to be with me in Germany and forever.
You show me what love can be.
You are my Winter love and my Spring hope.”
—
In Early Spring. Led by wrong decisions, Army deployments and the need of my loins. Daniela eyes begin to change. We confessed love once and now love had turn cold. I knew the ending before the beginning. I lost Sheena because I told her of my deeds and I knew Daniela was myth and tale. The sage of love is fair. Men who believe love is fair. They learn. Love demand payment. We pay for every sin.
John Castellenas/Coyote