Cast your eyes upon the far and distant shore; 
listen to the whisp’ring wind telling tales of yore, 
of that elusive Lady some may never see again, 
the envy of the womenfolk and lust of many men. 

Her hair is like a halo, spun of finest silk, 
spread across a pillow as white and pure as milk. 
Her eyes contain deep secrets, as timeless as the sun, 
sought after with great fervour, by each and every one. 

To one she is a temptress, evading every plea, 
like the sultry siren enticing sailors on the sea. 
She frolics in the starlight as fireflies dart by; 
to vanish in the morning mist in the flutter of an eye. 

For the next she may be faithful, always loyal at his side 
from the days he first sets eyes on her, and takes her as his bride, 
until the time she lays her head in sadness on his breast, 
then wipes a teardrop from her face and lays him down to rest. 

She is both hated and admired; shunned and idolized; 
bathed in such a mystery that her kisses are quite prized. 
She can elude us, or indulge us with affection from above, 
but few would ever turn away this Lady we call Love. 


                        april 2002






Awarded by Poetic Constellations


Included in


 

Awarded by Friendly Musings


Included in The Meeting Of The Minds Journal
 Volume 1, Issue 4 August 2002