Beatrice Meets Her Dante, by Gerry Hendershot

Dante and Beatrice, by Henry Holiday (UK) 1882-1884

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.