Macías, O Namorado, the last Galician troubadour

The inscription reads  “Captive of My Sadness”

No, not again, never will I love one

like you: Radiant. Terrific. Humble.

Life was not designed to be so much fun.

To win you, my heart lunged, and took a tumble

into your sticky mouth: Beauty’s web was spun.

Vibrating summer rains and a jumble

of naked joy were nothing I would shun.

For us, whipped cream and strawberry crumble.

Yes, yet again, ever the hopeful fool,

driving a hundred miles to glimpse my beloved.

More taken with the game, I lost my cool.

Mediocre player in love, shoved

aside like clicking balls in pocket pool,

still  I shoot for that Yes where love will sing and rule.