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The Gringo and the Mexican Girl
I wrote this poem after witnessing a middle aged American being overly attentive to a local Mexican girl, in a public bar downtown Guadalajara. To a girl, it seems attractive to have such a nice time, to an older, wiser observer, it is someone being fooled in the affairs of the heart. Whilst one is romantic and always hopes for the ending to be the most happiest of tales, in this circumstance is it was clear that the romeo was away from home and just out to enjoy the life of free love no matter who it was.
Guadalajara is the second largest city in Mexico. With plenty of life going on through out the year for the foreigner to come visit and enjoy. The central area has so many places for the delightful opportunities to savor the Mexican way of life, from Tequila tasting, bullfighting and enjoying the wonder of the many Churches to be admired. Of course the central downtown area has many bars to frequent with the obvious aspects of meeting people.
Real Mexican girls / woman are circumspect, upholding and proud. They don't fool around and take the romance very seriously, as do their family. Many are glamourous, attractive in such beauty without cosmetics of the chemical or plastic kinds. Most are shy, and reserved, that is until the proper introductions are conducted, then their warmth of nature brightens.
Please read and see if you feel that the 'emotions' of unfounded love have been captured.
The Gringo and the Girl.
I’m a Mexican girl, hardly worth a mention,
What was it that caused to give so much attention?
You with blonde hair and those eyes of blue,
stared at me while I look down to my shoe.
You pointed and smiled, gave a hand wave,
why for me to speak to you will be very brave.
I don’t know what you want or you desire,
is there something stoking your inner fire?
To me you show your very happy face,
but will you honour and respect my grace?
Wonderful words given of a different tongue,
into which my ears hear sayings as if sung!
You really mean these gestures of sweet Amor,
or are you keen to pass through my door?
Your hands touch me in a familiar way,
and I want to say to you ´´Stop-No-Hey!´´
But you insist with such Military precision,
and very soon my body yields to the decision.
Now my treasures taken and you had pleasure,
I feel you gauge me and begin to so measure.
And now Gringo gone back home ‘cos of tension,
I’m a Mexican girl, hardly worth a mention.
© Edward Mortimore Rose 2005