Helen's was the face that launched a thousand ships -
so wrote Christopher Marlow
to explain what spurred their haste to take that trip;
but, I would like to ask him though,
this poet and playwright, wise and knowing -
which way were they going?
A beauty! I saw her strolling in main street,
A face that launched a thousand ships.
And a mere working boy with no glamour,
How could I aspire to kiss those lovely lips?
Oh well, you can have the cake but not eat it.
Soon she entered a boutique and changed
Into a gorgeous sexy outfit that made me gloat.
I could not go to meet her. I felt estranged.
I hurried on afraid I could be a stalker.
I noticed the women around, all nondescript.
Dared I return and catch another glimpse?
I wondered what dress she might have equipped.
And then I saw her dressed in tattered jeans.
She was just like other women, no longer a queen.
I sidled up to her and boldly asked
My friend, where are those fabulous dresses green?
She laughed like a nightingale and smiled sweetly.
It's just a trade to entice others to buy such ware.
I offered her a coffee and something to eat.
Tell me your name, mine is just plain Claire.
My tale must end there, your choice how it ends.
But marriage was evident not just ordinary friends.
I Walked A Thorny Path Alone
I walked a thorny path alone,
Bare feet eating dusty ground:
I looked back, you were gone,
Remained only hollow empty sound,
We both racing homeward bound.
That Spring morn, you were all mine,
Smiling with heart all aglow-
Blazing sun you did outshine,
Future love, would we know:
Loving food yet still refuse to dine?
Time told me this pain once before
You had shattered me that day
I wanted you , desired you, all the more
Reunited again each night we could play
Until you departed to another shore.
Now memories show me your smile
Sexy legs and red-hot lips
Soft witchery that so beguiles,
Face that launched a thousand ships
Now I look back a thousand miles!
Robert J. Lindley, 4-28-2016
A salad a day keeps the doctor away
At least that's what I've always heard
Well so far that's proven to be the case
Doc visits have rarely occurred
Unless my bean-o's the thing at question
That's really quite a different matter
Memory's not firing on every cylinder
Thoughts are jumbled and scattered
Give them my name if I ask for help
What happens if I think I'm famous
Offering my autograph to passers by
Might think I'm an ignoramus
People will ask if I've made any movies
Or held some political office
Not to my knowledge I'm sad to relate
But my arabesque is really quite flawless
Maybe I'm famous, just can't remember
You can have my autograph in case
Now I'm even starting to wonder myself
In the movies, ever seen my face?
© Jack Ellison 2015
Could such coarse hands
strike forth such sweet music
drawing gently the strings of your tunic
heavenly melodies I vaguely understand
Could such stuttering lips
eloquently call forth pleasure
drawing out the decibels we treasure
from the grooved fountain of the deep
Could blind eyes dare to see
the face that launched a thousand ships
imprisoned in blissful smile of companionship
dares me to be what I must be
What strange roars I hear?
what crimson storms rage?
feeble feet wobble shy courage
as my body shudders in pleasing fear
At the moment of little death
buried in arms we bring birth
to noble life as we breath again here.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.