by Roelien Steenkamp

Created on: March 24, 2010

-Vanilla & Cayenne-

They knew not each other, from two distant lands they came

She only knew of his sweet scent, and he of her warm name

One of spicy pod, the other of peppery burn

His heart that of a drum, bourbon’s beat

Her pulse that of a flute, chilli’s chant

In this savage, cruel world, they’d inevitably meet

At a daemon, between her sultry stage and his melodic seat

From there she’d dance the sacred steps

Her presence, provocative amongst the plebs

From there he’d gather parchments wrapped in leather

His rich calligraphy, the desire to a thief’s snatch

She’d sway her lonely hips, her dress of silky feather

He’d play his music, of which no lyre could match

They’d sight each other,

Their lonely worlds would meet

Their troubles, their pains no longer of bother

His eyes as glistening, ever-changing as a gem-filled lake

Hers as prophetic as a gypsy’s take

To be melted in a pot of passionate fusion

And in a fiery cauldron of no mistake

He a spirit, one of a thousand ships launched

With hers, a lustful paradise they forged

From empires and bloody battles, their sacred love was mould

To sadistic devils, their souls never sold

Stranger’s promise of magic and alchemy, all but failed

Hand in hand, they ran desserts and denied the tempt of jade and gold

Hand in hand, across vast oceans, they sailed

From where the jaguar hunts the dark hour

To the masterful steps of the Incas,

From the Aztec’s temple of doom, belief’s brutal power

To the orchards of cigars and caravans

Through the islands of volcanic ash

And the misty castles home to mythic fangs

Through the green pastures of Ireland where Tristan was to meet Isolde

To lands down under, one of glacier, the other of drought and thunder

To the pantheons of Olympian gods

From the heavens and to Hades’ deepest plunder

He no longer idle, she no longer in solitude

As if written in epic prose long before

Their love an ancient chronicle foretold

They are no longer sad, and cry no piercing tears

In two souls becoming one,

With the promise of magnificent, endless journey

Of which vengeful armies and defeat is none

Vanilla and Cayenne eat from a sweet cherry blossom tree

And in the legend of their love, find sensuous immortality.

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