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.
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