Of Mantises and Men
'Twas a soft, sunny evening—I was milling about,
basking in breezes and dying to doubt—
when at once I crossed paths with a fellow of charm:
a young gentle-mantis took perch on my arm.
He asked how I was; I replied: "Tis all fine!"
Then in good cheer I repeated his line.
At once he was nervous, and shuffled his wings.
I asked then if he was all right with all things.
He poured out his heart, so full of dark fear!
For he'd found a lady, and bought her a beer.
And tonight was to mate her, but there was a catch:
She might fancy him dinner—the poor, sorry wretch!
And then, I confess, I chuckled and sighed,
and the young gentle-mantis, he started to chide.
But I held up my hand, and said with a smirk:
"Your species has problems. Mine, too, has its quirk."
He asked in confusion just what I had meant,
and I relived all of the tears I had spent.
"Your women take only your bodies as tax;
Our women burn hearts as candles of wax!"
The mantis scoffed, said that we at least live,
and I shrugged my shoulders, for what did I give?
Better to perish while love is alive,
than drift through the years with no will to strive.
14 August 2016
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
