Poems

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   The Provocative Lady

     (Proverbs 7:6-27)

            I                               

Lady, O Lady, Provocative Lady!

The day that we met—was it some unwelcome dream?—

My heart bowed to you, and, hastily

And foolishly, I uttered my vow. The gleam

On your face!-how could I resist? Truly

                             

I thought I loved you! But that wasn't new, was

It?-at least, not for you.

You made me believe that—really I did, cause

I was a fool—you loved me and cherished me too.

But you aren't able to love, are you? That's how it's been, always.

                            

That day that I saw

You, your hair was let loose and was lost in the wind.

Your lips were rose-red—how many matrimonial law

You broke, no one can tell—like the glove in your hand.

Your dress was also red, like a red cat's paw.

                           

It was raining, and there you were, waiting

For me under your red umbrella.

You bid me to come, nothing

Doubting and—sadly—I obeyed as if you were my Laura.

I entered the house and was so unsuspecting.

                            

The fire was burning. Hot tea was boiling. My heart

Was palpitating. Your gaze were ablaze

As your plan reached its second faze. Your words—by some art—

Were like darts to my heart. So, in my haste,

We were one. O where should I start!

                              

The roses, which supported us, that scarlet river—it

Began consuming my soul. I tried to fight

It, but to no avail. You had me—to wit,

I was your slave. The rivers of love soon became seas of bitterness. Flight

Was my enemy and wouldn't be of aid. Your cruelty had no limit.

                            

Day after day I served you, O Lady, and loved

You! But when I looked in your eyes—yes,

The fire was there, but devoid of love. Had

You changed to another? Less and less

You resembled my Charlotte and I was so sad.

                          

I should have guessed you could not

Love me! But I didn't and I couldn't, 'cause life

For me was your capitulation, but my desolation. Blot

Out, O Time, blot out my shame! Like a knife

It protrudes my soul. Rid me—rid me of the inward rot!

                          

O the folly of youth! To be led by desire,

Which can only devour! Charlotte was beautiful—

There was none like her. Her beauty, like a lyre,

Pulled me each day. I passed her house often, hopeful

To catch but a glimpse of her!

                          

O that, O that that day could be judged

And condemned to death when—from a distance,

Out of that isolated house, so far removed

From society—that woman approached and had me in a trance!

When, with practiced treachery, she greeted me, O how my heart bled!

                          

If only I had heeded the counsel of the wise and had not lust

After her beauty! But I betrayed wisdom

And forsook understanding. As a bird lost

In its foolish song, unaware of the grim

Net of the fouler, Charlotte slew me and I couldn't resist.

                          

Charlotte's a witch—the queen

Of darkness in search of victims she. Her eyes

Are fueled by the power of lust, and a look in

Her eyes, just a look (yes,

Just a look!), and she can both life and senses drain from a man.

                          

I was dying and she was as pleased as could be.

Her body was like awful poison to my soul.

The more I had her, the less I had her, and the less she

Was mine. Soon I was a lifeless shell under her control,

A captive never to be set free.

                        

She kicked me and pushed me and

Beat me. But why did I not protest?

Think of the drug addict whose will's in the hand

Of the dealer! So it was with me. Her body was sweet

For a minute of a day, but O so bitter for the rest it remained.

                         

I was confined, away from family and friend.

I had no one. No father. No mother.

No Charlotte. I begged for nectar from the fiend,

But she mocked me and watched me wither.

Until at last, I breathed my last, soon to be dead.

                        

I had no strength remaining to resist

As she dragged me. But my eyes were on her

Body, that Provocative Lady! How they lit

With stained hope and a longing so wear!

"Where we were going" never a question in my list.

                        

Down, down, down we went,

Until darkness was everywhere.

She lit a little lamp and my heart

Seemed to stop with a convulsive

And griping fear. Bones, bones, everywhere—believe it!

                        

I was not the only one.

Scores and scores of bones—a testimony

That Charlotte's a fiend. There was a bone

In her mouth and, I tell you—she's chewing it! Unholy

And Wicked Being! What business had I in her home!

                         

She stared at me, and those fiery eyes consumed

My soul. Her hand pass'd o'er the lamp—she was coming!

I wept and cried and screamed to be freed.

By whom? No mother! No Father! But Charlotte! Approaching!

Her eyes in the dark shined with lust unleash'd!

                          

Her bonny fingers ran through my hair.

I tell you her ominous presence no longer ensnared

Me. Was I to be the unfair

Witches lunch? I reckon I had

Already been. Day, after day, after day we were a pair.

                          

Well, I wasn't. How?

O Laura, my dear Laura!

The door was flung open. The Light of the Son did show.

The witch—powerless—was O so helpless—quite a

Sight to behold. Laura took me home, away from the wicked crow.

                          

If you want to see Charlotte's house—

I suggest that you don't—

It's just down Vanity Street. It's a path we

Men tread very often, a house for the fool to visit.

Let all who seek death, misery, and damnation go see!

                           

Please heed my testimony told so faithfully.

You see! Charlotte's house was never searched

By the police! They know full well what's really

There but just don't want it destroyed.

Perhaps, they can't destroy it in actuality.                      

                     II                          

Laura, you see, is a Christian.

I visited her gathering and I learned

Something profound: though wrecked and stain'

And drenched in filth, her Savior loved

Even me! Believing, He freed me from the penalty of my sin.

                           

I regret to say that I still commit

Sin, but I find no joy in such a thing that my

Savior saved me from. Indeed, let

Me tell you, He suffered for it! Why

Should I in it find delight?

                             

You probably guessed it; Laura and I got married.

She knew my life—O what a shameful life!—

And she still wanted

Me. But I love her so much more for bringing me

News of the cross! Else, by God's wrath I'd been consumed.

                             

I sometime sit by my window.

From there I can see the path to Charlotte's

House. So many shallow

Youth I find. I try to warn that 'tis

Folly, but I'm taken for a boring fellow.

                            

Lady, O Lady, Provocative Lady,

Hear me! You shall not go unpunished!

The precious lives that you take are so many!

Heedless they go to you so unprepared

In search of pleasure, only to find your cruelty!