I dread women, for I have given them cause for revenge
  By searching with knowing eye for weaknesses;
  By attending to them with conscious craft.
Willingly showing fanged smiles, and allowing
  The cunning eye-gleam to be for fondness taken -
Knowingly moving them with a puppeteer's deft touch
  Upon the body-strings and the heart-strings -
Slyly in sweet whisper cloaking goads to cast myself
  Light of their days, and ache of their nights -
To a tune of my choosing they I made them to dance
  And revelled in the clever play of my power.

But on some unchosen day one will come to make me
  A willing slave through my own cynical craft.
Though I see the net cast in her whispers,
  Still it may ensare me and seduce my mind.
Though I find myself bound, I would strive vainly
  To be loosed from the twitch of her gentle threads.
Though in her smile phantom sharpness and venom I espy,
  Still she may sting me with feverish desire.
I will be held thrall by my weakness, without power
  To help myself. I shall yearn to dance for her
  And parrot the tunes which she makes me sing.

May 15, 2005

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