Music Poetry

Nine Post Cards from Prague

One by one
He looked at each passport
He wears two stars on each shoulder
An eight-pointed star on his chest
A gun on his hip…


You can click on this link and listen to The Moldau as you read my poem, Nine Postcards from Prague today:

Listen to The Moldau

Nine Post Cards From Prague



Sapphire light mingles with deep red violet

Rolled out behind the spiky black twin spires

Like a futuristic vision.

My neck aches from bending backwards

My soul leaps forward to embrace them.

Evening comes to Prague

Like a dark, warm wool blanket

That wraps a weary traveler’s body

At the end of a long journey.


Tonight, walking along hard stone paths

The dark Moldau sang to me.

Her voice lifted me up from the street

Like a duet of a finely tuned violin

And a velvet throated cello

As we crossed the wide bridge

Keeping inside the dark shadows.

I watched a long gray pigeon

Quietly fly through the last ray of light

Coming home for rest

We continued searching

For the way back

To where the night begins.


Here in Prague.

Store windows dazzle

With ample treasures of amber,

Garnets and Bohemian glass.

They bulge with heavy burdens of color

And ask me to return again tomorrow.

Come.  Walk inside of me.

Touch. Hold.  Buy.

I ask “what is the price?”

How will I carry the large glass flowers home?

How will they look when I place them

In a thick orange vase

From West Virginia?


A small ink drawing hangs

On the wall in room 428.

This familiar artist’s style

Catches my eye again.

His drawings hang

In my Pennsylvania home.

Last year, in Prague

The artist stood alone

Displaying his drawings

On Sunday morning.

A proud businessman.

I bought several.

The price was too low.


I sit alone

On the edge of the spiral tide

In the center of this night

My thoughts turn like a labyrinth

Made of ocean waves.

Soon you will embrace me

And we will walk away together.


One by one

He looked at each passport

He wears two stars on each shoulder

An Eight-pointed star on his chest

A gun on his right hip.

Foolish students giggle in the back of the bus

One asks if he speaks English

He asks if they speak Czech

All laugh at his joke

He is thin and young

And departs with an English “Good Bye.”

We occupied seven minutes of his day.


It rains now

as we get our final glimpse of Prague

the translucent gray sky

softens the deep golden fields to mauve.

distant trees turn from yellow-green

to blue wine mist.


Prostitutes take their places along the

road to Prague

they kneel down on the grass

wave at the tourists

arrange their few possessions.


The late summer rains

swept away all our dreams.



Published in the book, “Concerti: Psalms for the Pilgrimage,” by Lynda McKinney Lambert.  Kota Press, 2002.Published in “Kudzu Literary Review,” 2003.

Something More:

You can listen to one of my favorite compositions by the Czech composer Bedrich Smetana by clicking on this link.

The Moldau, by Bedrich Smetana



Photo by Lynda McKinney Lambert – Changing of the guard at the Palace in Prague.

Essay and photo, Copyright 2015. Lynda McKinney Lambert. All rights reserved.

Published on SCANdalous- Reflections Blog, August 8, 2015.



Lynda McKinney Lambert is the author of “Concerti: Psalms for the Pilgrimage” published by  Kota Press. She authors two blogs on writing, the humanities, arts, and faith.  She is a free lance writer and her poetry and essays appear in numerous books and literary journals.  She is a retired professor of fine arts and humanities and she exhibits her fiber arts in exhibitions world-wide.
 Currently she has two books in development for publication in 2016.

By Lynda McKinney Lambert

Official Author Page for
Lynda McKinney Lambert

See my 4 published books on Amazon.

2 replies on “Nine Post Cards from Prague”

Thanks, Abbie. I love to cross disciplines in everything I do – Music-Art-Literature-Philosophy, and more. Smetana is at the top of my “LOVE” list for composers – this particular piece is unforgettable in my mind. It is haunting, isn’t it!

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