Beatrice Meets Her Dante I look ahead expressionless, I know his eyes are on me: I hold a rose in my left hand, my legs give shape to my gown-- I’m sexier far than those he’s chosen. She looks all right in her virginal white, it gives her a distant allure; but I in red, behind her head, toss him a look I practice—most men take it as rut-eye. I fancy them both, Beatrice most; I play her against the other to win her heart; in love I may be deceitful-- but only for good, and that’s not a sin. Thus men and women, in times long ago, deceived one another--still it is so. Gerry Hendershot Gerry Hendershot is a retired health statistician turned poet who writes and promotes poetry in Riverdale Park MD.
0 Comments
Your comment will be posted after it is approved.
Leave a Reply. |
The Ekphrastic Review
COOKIES/PRIVACY
This site uses cookies to deliver your best navigation experience this time and next. Continuing here means you consent to cookies. Thank you. Join us on Facebook:
March 2023
|