You slithering obsession;
You creeping vine, wrapped round progressive centuries,
Til kings and rebels and dreaming men
Become as lackeys,
Following your trailing, withered leaves.
You visit men in midst of night.
Your comely form mirrors fates unbidden to light of day.
Rise up - - oh Men!
But you, sheathed in shimmering sensation,
Beckon them to cross the barren edge…
Dust to dust
And men pass on,
Ever trapped by your treacherous caress,
And words: “Ah, such is life,”
Fall as stones from unprotesting lips.
But as men lie on Death’s rotating rim
They quick identify you, the Victress.
Categories:
victress, angst, betrayal, mystery, sin,
Form: Free verse
A savage seraph, graceful lioness,
A mortal goddess winning reverence,
A blazing focus, freezing fierce finesse,
A mixture whole: incarnate temperance.
She routs her drought by catching twenty-two,
She courts desire, her record nets acclaim,
She triumphs such, her glories shall ensue,
She grips her lauds unfree from slander’s shame.
The queen of tennis double bagels foes,
She aces breaking points while serving face;
A stirring game, set, match through racket throes,
Her haters’ faults lay long and wide, misplaced.
She’s Nike’s victress, God’s bellissima,
She’s crowned Regina Serenissima.
Categories:
victress, sports, tribute,
Form: Sonnet