Monday Morning Superstar

She walks through the early market stalls

She walks through the early market stalls

On high heels that echo from the old town walls

As she passes the man with the honey and the eggs

He pretends not to notice the curve of her legs

And adjusting his goods for a better view

He remembers the things he always wanted to do.

She turns the corner and into the square

The fish seller’s late, his slab is still bare

She walks straight on, not glancing left or right

Through pools of light and dark, the sun still low and bright

As she approaches the church, the priest begins to chant

She wears one of those dresses, the hem cut on the slant.

The bell rings at last to end the morning mass

Already in the café the faithful raise a glass

Coffee and cognac, the smells are divine

Especially to follow stale communion wine

She takes her place behind the counter of the bar

Every Monday morning street market superstar.

© Jeffrey James Culling & Giuseppe Valdo Conte

Vocals Jeff

All Instruments Joe

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