POETRY PAGE TWO
Life is a labyrinth in which the convoluted
pathways insist to deepen still.
The intricate confines are beckoning,
and no exit will emerge . . .
The numerous passages ever continue,
and we live out all of our days
foraging, harvesting, seeking -
and we are at one with this extravagant maze....
Long ago when the sea was young,
Enchanting melodies were seductively sung.
And I was beckoned from my ancient room,
Was spirited away and bestowed my boon . . .
Upon the shore of an unknown land,
Poseidon gently took my hand. . .
"Lovely creature so beguiling and fair,
I shall take you to your ancestral lair;
Your place is there beneath the sea,
Give your perfumed hand to me."
Down to the watery depths we went,
To answer the calling I had been sent.
I was given a splendid mirror of gold,
And treasures so rare, oh the gifts did unfold!
Sunken ships loomed everywhere,
And Zeus fixed me with an impossible stare.
I looked beyond and there was Circe,
A seducing goddess with her gift of mercy.
And most contrary to popular lore:
The Argo never made it to shore.
The Sirenís were certainly frightful & vicious
For amongst the coral, I spied Odysseus.
I was willingly lead to the curious mountains,
Was bathed & groomed by the nymphs of the fountains.
Then I was given an ivory key
Which lead to a door fashioned for me . . .
Within the confines of my distinguished place
Stood a rugged Pirate with a much handsome face.
Need I explain what we engaged then?
Yea, earthly brutes might think it a sin . . .
Sprite that I am, I was tempting & teasing
And the handsome Pirate was more than pleasing.
I fell in love with the watery sphere,
And yearned to dwell with my Buccaneer . . .
But, the Sirenís seemed so envious of me,
And at this time I attempted to flee.
I was in fear of the Sirenís sweet song ---
I sought Poseidon, & he said, "You are wrong,
There is nothing for you to fear;
You are the omnipotent here . . .
Oh royalty of the waters, you are the Queen,
Dominance is yours, my beautiful Ondine . . . ."
[For Dale, a gentleman sailor, or a Pirate perhaps]
She is the harlot of Mr. Jones
He laughs as he causes her sobs and moans.
She is his whore; she submits to him . . .
But he has no love. . . his mind is grim.
His pleasure is making her suffer and cry,
He gives her medicine to make her die.
An unlikely couple they seem to be,
Mr. Jones, and beautiful she.
He penetrates her as she lay asleep. . .
No escaping him in her night so deep.
Because of him - she will prostitute . . .
Better that - than an institute.
Trying desperately to make him flee . . .
Wanting solitude and to be set free;
She seized an ax - and with a swift throw
Took off his head - but he wouldnít let go;
' Have mercy on me, I do hate him so! '
He is a viper she cannot kill . . .
And yet continues to do his will.
For richer or poorer - better or worse,
She will forever be under his curse.
He wickedly laughs as he rapes her bones,
She is the submissive wife of Mr. Jones. . .
I never wish to see you hurt, and pray not see you cry
But if your ear is deafened, please listen with your eye
I have a pain that you might see --- if the sight is clear
And I can feel your inner pain, and behold it with my ear
Remember, as you do unto me, I will do unto you
Something rare is not extinct, and certainly never through
There need be no explaining of things we say and do
The only hope is here and now, but it is tried and true
Together we have shared the roots, and tasted of forbidden fruits . . .
Hold the brilliance and essence fast
Beautiful memories are meant to last
You can make the bad times flee
Ponder fondly thoughts of we
Reserve a place within your mind
A part of me is what youíll find
When I am desolate & darkly blue
I meditate entirely on you
Forever seek and understand
No limit is known in a infinite land
If you feel you need an ear,
Simply whisper, I am near
Again Iíll share with you the roots, weíll sing and dance to golden flutes
And as we swirl in a gossamer haze
The moon will beam in this Happy Daze . . . .
© 2001 by Cathlyn Cross- Leming (All rights reserved)