2001-03-25 - 07:41 p.m.
OH LADY CALPURNIA
Through the gate she would step once where she wept
Her gait speaks quiet motions.
Her heart beats with anticipation
For the sultry moments and her emotions.
The womanhood in her bosom rises to the stars not smitten.
And captures hearts from distances and eternities.
The morale question not asked but answered.
Is but an unspoken line in a long Shakespearean play unwritten?
A vixen, a she-cat, a seductress, a maiden, a vamp not so old.
She hides in the forests and gazes out upon the long road to life.
Cuddled with her fur, and warmed by the sun and warm stones
She smiles so innocently and caresses the minds of men so bold.
She cries like a child,
And weeps as a dose a lady.
Her tears are caught by a mentor near;
The moment the tower clock tolls her adult year.
Upon her pony the little girls ride
The Mother to be; the hearts filled with pride.
Her plan, her man, her accomplishments can.
And all the wondrous moments inside!
As an artist I paint this mural to her being.
The obstreperous lad skipping along side so tumultuously
Begging for attention and givin’ none
She puts him to bed in his long johns.
The spring sun lengthens the evening day; her body stands erect and proud.
Her kingdoms lush with flowers of beauty; her lips pout with centuries’ might
In the shroud she wears, blowing in the cool breeze from the north;
She rides her pony once more forth into the night!
