The Lady of the Night
Alone, Luna dominates the sky,
glowing from Sol’s reflected light.
Her mares, dark blotches set
against the white light.
She is the queen of the night sky,
full face proudly displayed.
Strange things are said to happen
when she rides her chariot across the sky.
Wolves utter
lonesome cries.
Cursed individuals take the
form of the werewolf.
Humans go stark raving
mad.
We have physically touched her face
six times.
We have found her to be a harsh mistress
with no room for error.
She attracts our attention like no
other night figure.
We will return, she is that gilded
lady that beckons us.
We cannot stay away.
There once was a lady of the night
wearing dresses short and tight
she coaxed her johns
showing a titillating thong
whetting their appetites.
She is a lady of the night
Has come to ply her wares
Her dress is so provocative
For her safety no one cares
They say she gets what she deserves
They hold her at arm's length
But her resolve to do her job
Is where she gets her strength
Now say she didn't risk her life
There for those with intent
Placate their carnal urges
And calm that wilful gent
Is it because she walks the street
That other girls can see
From those that could be dangerous
There's no need for them to flee
They closed the brothels in her town
She had some safety there
Did anyone defend her?
Or did anybody care?
So next time you see this lady
Or maybe others of her kind
Don't turn your back and spurn her
Out of sight, is out of mind
Lady of the Night
Blessed be the ardor
of violet words
uttered in the heat of night,
whispered untrimmed,
urgent as convulsion's
approaching strains.
Where is the one
who tricked in heels,
turned on the lathe
of the procurer's sloth,
with waxing age?
Truth dissolves the mists,
banishes yesterday's lies,
lifts the curtain of darkness
to starkly reveal
the procurer's delight
is no longer there.
The lady of the night
at last is free.
Short skirt
You flirt
Big chest
Mae West
You paid
Get Laid
Jan Allison
18th August
Her face is of another world,
the lady of the night,
her beauty framed by Heaven's glow
of alabaster light.
Sedately as she passes by,
behind a veil she slips.
Eternity won't make a face
her beauty can't eclipse.
She smiles on her companion as
she slowly turns away,
as if she were a lover lost
with nothing more to say.
She peers into the depths of space,
serenely-- unafraid,
then turns to face the world again,
her monthly penance paid.
I get the urge to write something like this once in a blue moon.
Scented Nightingale sets sail
Foraging through every, well-forded dale
Primped, preened emasculated shell
Black crown renovated for sale
From seductive perch casts alluring spell
Easy catch your lucrative Grail
Burnished cloak gleaming 'neath the moon pale
Brightly adorned feathers flap and flail
Arched talons ready to caress and assail
Hoary head cocked; each passing suitor to hail
Chirping beak with flattering lines doth swell
Her prominent tail quivers at the sight of every, virile male
Innocent malingerer she'll stalk then trail
'Till clutching his beating heart and hearing his bleating wail
There once was a vampire called Vincent
Finding true love was his main intent
As he skulked through the night
Causing women a fright
Biting necks was how he chose to vent
One night Vincent met up with a lady
You might say her job was rather shady
Soon she said what the heck
And she offered her neck
Then he gave her a thrill hot as Hades!
She fell in love as he sucked her blood
Vincent too as he felt his heart thud
Now he was quite love-struck
Could not believe his luck
She made him feel like some vampire stud!
*for Halloween Limerick contest
sponsored by John Freeman
Your body men desire
It fills them full of fire
They want so much
To feel the touch
The gifts you have for hire.
You walk the streets so dark
Your future bleak and stark
You work for bugs
To buy the drugs
That really hit the mark.
Your pimp is a drug dealer
A professional money stealer
You feel the pain
Hooked on cocaine
He is your true fate-sealer.
You passing nobody to mourn
Thirty years since you were born
You only know your punter
Who really was your hunter
But it’s you the people scorn!
On the street corner she stands
So scantly clad
A lady of the night
Her background so sad
From a broken family
Abandoned and lost
She grew up on the streets
No matter her cost
The only man in her life
Is her mentor and pimp
Her collector of fee's
Where he makes his mint
There is no care
For her or others
If they ever complain
It's oxygen smother
To a bedsit she retires
As her business unfolds
Another stat on the bedpost
In another unloving hold
Soiled and used
Once again
If we could see in her heart
Could we ease her pain
The door closes
As she heads back to the streets
The patch where she walks
Where her clients, she meets
Another night over
As she turns in for the night
While he counts his money
From this lady of the night
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/life-5.php
With slick moves and feline grace,
she pirouettes on the darkened stage,
then suddenly turns, splits and tumbles.
As she shakes her black silken hair,
undulates her hips while she teases,
the music becomes fast and frenetic.
A temptress now she sheds her clothes,
her unseeing eyes lasered onto
the crowd of animated zombies.
I grasp my glass of San Miguel beer
like a jealous, possessive lover,
unblinking eyes focused on this siren.
And while she moves, glides and fumbles,
I freeze and I shake and I tremble
sitting by this smoky bar table.
Never will she ever know how
she changes my life right this very hour
as I gape, stunned and mesmerized,
at the lady of the night.
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