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The Beginning of A Bangkok Love Story
| Open Poetry #42 |
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The Beginning of A Bangkok Love Story |
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JamesMichael Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-16
Posts 33336Kapolei, Hawaii, USA |
The Beginning of A Bangkok Love Story Most nights in Bangkok bad things seem to happen. Oh yeah, thats what they all say, those cockle doddle doo rooster heads that wouldn't sense the danger of plastic explosives unless they got there balls blown off in a subway, and speaking of subways when was the last time you rode the metro in Paris and got off in Pigale, probably not once in your lifetime, not that I would consider recommending it, cause the girls or should I say women are crazy down there, bragging about their skills to any testosterone clone that happens to be walking by, but don't you dare look them in the eye, or they might get you under their spell, and many a young man has sold his soul to the devil just to have a little fun, to awaken the next morning staring down the sun, flat on their back, with their wallet and dignity gone. But there was one night in Bangkok when something good happened that restored my faith in humanity. It was half past midnihgt and I had said goodnight to my friends and as I left the restaurant a woman walked by me in a long white dress and I didn't think she was as close as she was and as she walked by I felt her brush up against me and I sensed something warm in my jacket pocket. I reached in my pocked and found a pamphlet that seemed to be inviting me to a church service on a Sunday morning, now normally I might have throw it away but believing it to be a message from the woman in the white dress I had a desire to attend the service. So early that Sunday morning I put on my Sunday best hoping to see this woman again. The church wasn't very far and it was filling up rapidly and even though it was among modern building it looked like a little country church. As I walked inside, the music and the singing were already encouraging the congregation to join into the action. I could feel the spirit of the Lord coming over me and I joined in singing and praising. Soon I was having such a good time that I almost forgot about the women in the white dress until the music stopped and it was time for a solo. A woman in a red dress stepped forward from the choir and it was the woman that had given me the pamphlet in my pocket. I can still remember most of the lyrics she sung that day. "Last night I dreamed an angel came, he took my hand, he called my name, he bid me look he other way, I saw a man, I heard him say, "If I be lifted up I'd draw all men to me, I turned and then I saw the nail scarred hands that bled for me, I touched the hem of his garment that fell round Him there, my heart, my life I gave, my soul was in His care." And if you ask me I will tell you that she sounded like an angel. After the service the Pastor invited anyone that wanted to fellowship to meet at a restaurant. In the restaurant I found myself seated right across the table from the angel with the heavenly voice and she told me that she was glad to see that I made it to church, and I told her how much I enjoyed her singing. We had a wonderful time of fellowship, and she invited me to come to a Thursday night Bible study. This is the beginning of a Bangkok love story. JamesLee 10May 2008 I don't know the author of the gospel song. |
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| © Copyright 2008 JamesMichael - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Robert E. Jordan Member Rara Avis
since 2008-01-25
Posts 8541Philadelphia, Pennsylvania |
Yo James, This is fairly well written. I'd advize against starting any thing with "And". I've always like Paris, and I've never been to Bangkok. Bobby |
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Marchmadness Member Rara Avis
since 2007-09-16
Posts 9271So. El Monte, California |
Enjoy your"life" stories, James. Ida |
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Alison 
since 2008-01-27
Posts 9318Lumpy oatmeal makes me crazy! |
I like this, James, and look forward to reading more. Good stuff in this poem. Hugs, A |
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Margherita Member Seraphic
since 2003-02-08
Posts 22236Eternity |
Dear James, I enjoyed this much and will love to read the sequel. You take the reader in, no doubt. Love, Margherita |
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