The Lady Called Desire

Modest to start with, bloating to be beast, A spurring cat coaxing for ever more, Ere long to rule your life, you knowing least, What with wants and wishes known not before, Her kittens come soon, nudge with a soft paw, Pester you to pay heed, rub your weak knees, And ere ye know, she’s a ravenous maw, From spark to bushfire abetted by breeze! Long has man mused: to be or not to be, Oliver Twists forever wanting more, And having had, scarce if ever happy, No one is shown still a much deserved door, World’s wont to dream of champagne and caviar, When should no more than just hotdogs and beer! ______________________________________________ Sonnets | 02.11.2012 revised May 2023| Poet’s note: Desire, what a damsel! No matter what the Greek and Roman philosophers might have said, today’s western world tends to look at desires as a welcome trait that achieves more than those from east especially Indian. This sonnet compares desires with cats with their subtle ways.