The Dancing Oracle
Around the fire she would dance,
Placing the young men in a trance.
And when each of them she'd approach,
She'd give a little guidance as a coach.
Call her a mystic, an Oracle or fortune-teller,
Her words of hope were more than stellar.
Until she met a stout man in a robe...
Her divination prowess turned stone cold.
"Why do my powers fail to act?"
With these few words, she fell; heart attack.
The fire then faded away,
And the rest of the young men did not stay.
Thursday, November 4, 2021
Copyright © Robert James Liguori | Year Posted 2021
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