Sunday, October 16, 2016

blue hour


by horace p sternwall

illustrations by roy dismas





a languid young lady named lou
wore a dressing gown of blue
her silver mirror reflected
the scarlet life she had selected

a perfume bottle of green
contrived to complete the scene
she heard a knock on the yellow door
she had passed this way before

her saucy maid entered the room
with an air of impending doom
oh miss lou, she cried
there is a gentleman outside


to say this is very hard
but he is from scotland yard
and it is his unpleasant task
some questions for you to ask

thank you, lily, said lou
i know that your heart is true
leave us now if you please
with this gent i will shoot the breeze

lou greeted her unwelcome guest
with an air that would have impressed
the queens of england and france
if they had been there by chance


the detective’s name was bash
he sported a gray mustache
and without further ado
he delivered this message to lou

madam, i think it best
that you do not resist arrest
i have a charge to relate
approved by a magistrate

that on august twenty-sixth
you were seen in company with
a man named albert bend
who came to an untimely end


and was found with four bullets in his head
unmistakably dead
in an alley behind a chip shop
where his body had been dropped

his previous movements’ history
had remained a mystery
though we searched from south to north
only now has a witness come forth

to fil in the lacunae
of the deceased’s last night and day
as a result of this information
i must ask you to come to the station


of course, replied lou with a drawl
wait a moment while i put on my shawl
for the night has a noticeable chill
but i always cooperate with old bill

outside a car was parked
a black sedan, unmarked
with lou settled in the back seat
it rolled away down the street

evincing no sign of regret
lou lit a cigarette
and watched as the streets unfurled
in the fog enshrouded world


the trip went on and on and on
were they going to drive until dawn?
though she did not break into song
lou knew that something was wrong

this was not the way to the yard
her captors played a strange card
all lou could do was wait
to learn the decree of fate

she felt they were near the river
and indulged in a ladylike shiver
at the sound of a midnight clock
the car pulled up to a dock


life is but a dream
it won’t do to shout or scream
and on that note, my friend
our tale comes to an end

a languid young lady named lou
wore a dressing gown of blue
she never knew what was false or true
and neither do i or you