Waltz King

Steve and I have just returned from a five day work trip to Europe. On the way out we had a delivery to a spot in the Swiss/German/French border triangle. We stayed overnight in the reputedly haunted room in a small hotel in Staufen on the edge of the Black Forest. Having made the one delivery in Germany, we trundled on to Burgundy where we bought a load of French antique furniture for our warehouse. In the truck parking place near to our hotel, there stood the huge truck that was transporting André Rieu and his Johann Straus Orchestra to a concert in Dijon, it had a massive, rather flattering caricature of the maestro on the side. My next door neighbours Jan and Christine are also musicians and are rehearsing for a waltz evening concert. I get to hear them playing their saxophones through the adjoining wall of our homes and that is what prompted my Waltz King poem. The
other efforts are also products of this trip.

Waltz King 

What have you done Johann?

What have you done?

Setting the ballroom on fire

Filling young hearts with desire

You saw all the beauty

The uniforms of duty. 

What was it like Johann?

What was it like?

When you were a pop star

They came from near and far

With baton then you posed

The music you composed. 

What did they say Johann?

What did they say?

The European royalty

Did they show you loyalty

As they danced away

To the sweet waltz you play. 

Would you go back, Johann?

Would you go back?

Leading the way

Being star of the day

A Prince showing your art

Did you steal a young heart? 

What would you say Johann?

What would you say?

If you were here now

And could take one more bow

What would you say,

When you look at today?

 

 

Flute  

We deliver antique furniture of every sort

And get to meet people of every kind

This is one area of our work, to transport

We cannot get bored with our lives we find. 

This time the meeting point of three lands

Only a mile or so to the others to go

On a German hillside where the horizon fans

Switzerland or a French valley below. 

One small piece handed to the flute maker

And his beautiful young flautist wife

Unwrapping the item brought by the taker

A dainty music cabinet to share in their life.

 

 

Faust Stube….

A Haunted Room 

Weird isn’t it,

Deliberately

Asking for

The room

That is claimed

To be haunted…

I have stayed here before.

I have come here

From completely

Different directions

On each visit.

On entering

The building

I get an immediate

Splitting headache.

Once in the room,

That is claimed

To be haunted…

I have to lay down

And sleep.

Then,

The headache leaves.

The ancient

Enclosed oak bed

Is like a small room.

Inside the bed,

Under the oak canopy

With solid oak side panels.

The room has

Stained glass windows

With paintings

Of the resident spirit

And there is an

Apothecary cupboard!

A strange room

That is claimed

To be haunted.

The house stands

In a strange

Black Forrest house

In a strange,

But beautiful

Black Forrest town

Staufen.

Where it is claimed

Mephisto came

To claim back

The soul

Of Dr Faust

One bad deed

Deserves another!