deepundergroundpoetry.com

Moroccan Night

Beneath the Moroccan moon, a tale unfolds,
Where genies in bottles await their cues,
Beside Aladdin's lamp, enchantment takes hold,
As we immerse in a world that's vibrant and true.

Aromas of spices dance upon the air,
Whispering of authentic meals to be savored,
Tagines of fowl and lamb, fish and yams so fair,
Bastille chicken, a symphony of flavors flavored.

Finely ground walnuts and pecans, a delightful touch,
They weave a mysterious tapestry of taste,
Walls adorned in mosaics, alive and lush,
Brocaded chairs, vibrant colors in haste.

Tambourines, drums, castanets, and strings,
They beckon the soloist to sing her song,
In a language strange, an angelic voice rings,
Transporting us to a realm where we belong.

The desert draws near, its mystique taking hold,
Moses leads the Israelites, a timeless scene,
Noah's ark rises, pairs of animals bold,
An enraged Pharaoh and his Egyptian queen.

King Solomon, regal upon his throne,
A solitary figure, steadfast and still,
A genie dances, her grace finely honed,
Balancing a sharp sword, a moment to thrill.

Through tables and chairs, she weaves her way,
Among flying scarves, a mesmerizing sight,
Her body sways, a blur of mystique and play,
Leaving behind a lingering, magical light.

But as the music fades, the scenery wanes,
We return to a place that falls short in compare,
To the distant world we glimpsed, where wonder remains,
With Aladdin's lamp as our guide, a genie by our side, rare.

Dear friends, let me share the tale of my night,
A Moroccan birthday dinner, a journey divine,
Where every moment shimmered with delight,
In a restaurant of enchantment, where memories shine.