Clive Williams artist

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Verse inspired during a visit to Porto, Portugal. It was Autumn 2014. I was captivated by the steeply piled old houses, one on another, the subtle colours and flavours of its port, the magic of Fado floating from a doorway and the simple unspoilt ambience, as if time had stopped a century ago.

Fado in Porto by Clive Williams

then stagger down that steep stepped street
of marble treads worn smooth and low by winters rain and countless feet
and drink the summer warmth and amber wine
by sun scorched walls where Morning Glory clings for life
and scattered roofs and flaking shutters cascade in flights down to the quay
where Porto 's vaults await the sea

take shade beyond this beaded screen
where music creeps into your mind
then see in the court a dancing child half hidden in diagonal light
her ragged dress as coloured wings
begin to sway to Fado's rhyme
and heady wine and Fado's song
sweeps you away to a world gone by

the singers voice is from the earth where vines root deep in fractured rock
and mountain crags above the groves where falcons fall and glide then stall
her passion speaks of lovers pain and broken hearts
and soars then hangs - suspending time
and in that moment steals your soul and thrills and waits
until the music wheels and falls again

so swirl a goblet brimmed with golden wine and see in the glass
the spirit's viscous tales of gipsy fires
and her voice leads you upwards
with oakwood smoke to a timeless star filled Moorish sky
and the scent of roses, tarragon and mountain thyme
of chocolate and cinnamon, caramel and cloves
and her Fado voice in minor keys bleeds your heart
and forever you are lost in memories

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CLIVE WILLIAMS

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