Femme Fatale

See how she flaunts her beauty to the gaze

of doting lovers basking at her side.

Spreads out her lace-trimmed skirt voluptuously:

its shimmering shade reflects the blue

of arching sky. And innocence she feigns,

masking the inconstant temper of her mood

which, hidden, lies beneath that tranquil breast.

A squall arises suddenly, and now

her mood reflects the sky which, overcast

with thunderous clouds, mirrors her face grown

dark and dire. Her lovers flee the menace

of her rage:

And late return to find she

has withdrawn to a slim and distant line:

as when a nun in contemplative prayer

forsakes the commerce of the market place.

Disconsolate, her lovers pace the shore.

And yet again, in solitary mood, she steals

into a hidden cove whose shapely curve

she fills, lapping and flirting with some passing youth.

And finally, the bedrock of her moods

shifts, shakes with quaking force, thrusts upward.

All her daemons surge in one swift fickle move,

with unrestrained caprice. Death dealing spite

engulfs her lovers as, innocent, they idle at her side.