Saturday, April 27, 2013

More than Meets the Eye...

The story that's told is of those ill at ease.
Friends become foes when one seeks to so please
His own fancy at the others expense;
Love turned astray is vengeful recompense.

M: Tarry you so long at the huntsman's gate
That you should find yourself to be so late
In arriving here by my side where you
Vowed to meet your love ever good and true?

F: Well, by your mean look on me you're jealous
Of him, he that speaks of your lifelong trust,
Who through thick and thin did wade with your life;
Between you both is love; or would be wife.

M: Tarrying words cannot, will not, make clear
What it is that I desire from you.
Draw close to me now, have no thought or fear!
I seek only my turn to court, to woo.

F: So bluntly as this do you seek my kiss?
An arrogant ape that would sooner rape
Than would miss the rest for a moments bliss
Are you, and he worse! You both offend me.

M: If offense is what you take from my words
Why then give them back and I'll make such burs
That are these advances into a rhyme
Of beauty and grace; for you are divine--

F: Peacock! Don't think to flatter me withal
The powers of charm. Back to earth you'll fall,
Your head's in the clouds from lacking earths air;
But after love's deed your love will prove bare.

M: And does my friend speak to you in pretty
Rhyme or serve a dainty dish of words sweet?
Is he not uncouth, rough, an angry sea
That boils and froths whenever you two meet?

F: Tis modesty that holds him back, tis you.
You see he loves us both, and is more true
A friend in the sight of God than either
You or I. We do him harm, I am sure--

M: Harm him not then! Do not give in to his
Advances and lashes of woeful tales;
For he does spin them up out of what is
In reality a web of his ails!

F: It's not his ails that compel me to speak.
Nor have you guessed rightly in the offense
That I mentioned before. I am but weak,
And my words do fail to show my intents.

M: What, have I not guessed them? Or they may be  
Other than I have mentioned...Are you free
To speak your mind with me, your utmost friend?
Have we not to journeyed far from end to end?

F: Why tis only your imagination
That makes it so, and it is a vexing
Frustration that takes its toll. What a pain
You are that you talk of this and that thing!

M: Are you suggesting I have not the ring
Of truth concerning the problem at hand?
Are you not worried to harm him, to sing
Of your love for me, do I understand?

F: When we were children we each did walk, talk
Side by side of our hopes, and of our dreams!
And while you did of each other so balk,
I remained quiet amongst silent screams.

M: What talk is this of screams? Of nightmares then
Do you speak that keep you from answering?
What nightmare could stride apace from a den
To cause your stammering and sad shaking?

F: Anger it is that causes me such grief!
Yet sorrow to. For time has been a thief
To take from my my gentle friend at hand
And replace him with one who will demand!

M: I demand nothing more than what is mine.
Tis for you, my friend, as you say, I pine!
I've no understanding of your anger.
Am I you friend, of whom you can be sure?

F: My friend, my friend. You are my friend, say so!
Not as you intend, for you should now know
That your hopes and dreams are not mine to wed;
I love your friend, our friend. Your pain I dread.

M: Say tis but a mischance that you spoke so
And I will lay aside my grief to show
That I am not opposed to jokes and games
When from my love they achieve their smart aim.

F: T'was chance that kept us together so long.
Years went by, and we three among the throng
Remained steadfast while bitterness and strife
Grew among our people. Now, on my life--

M: Say not again what you have said before!
I've shut my ears and heart  as though a door,
And will not hear you but to hear you say
That you'll adore me each and every day!

F: Tis vanity to say such a thing, fool!
Do you not see how arrogant a tool
You have become with age? I did mistake
To think you'd love my choice; for love you fake!

M: Fake is the snow flake, for it is water
Crystallized in a pretty form made sure
Footed by the cold that is winters grip.
Yet when I sought water it only bit...

F: Enough with such delusions! Clear your mind
Of such a thing as this bitterness. Why
This is what I feared would happen in kind,
That you would my words pull apart and ply!

M: Your bite proves far more bitter than winter's
Waging war upon spring. Summer blisters
Is hardly the name for such a harsh sting
As that borne upon your treacherous wing.

F: You rant and rave in a corner. Well, fare
Thee well enough to the contents of hate
Borne of bitterness that refuses fair
Words and kind hearted cheer uttered too late.

M: Late are you in leaving, why tarry now?
How long will you remain, arms fixed across
Your busty chest like a steady held bow
Prepped for a dogfight at sea? Why at a loss?

F: You were once more proper in how you saw
My frame. I know you seek to make a thaw
Out of what you deem to be a winter's
Grasp. You make yourself but a gross sinner.

M: And he whom you have chosen over me
Is more virtuous so as to speak of
A subject you deem as ill modesty?
Isn't it an illusion this game, love?

F: Your hands ought to know their place, as your thoughts.
I've overstayed my time for our friendship's
Sake, but you have soured my love with your quips.
I leave, that you may be sane, as you ought.

M: You leave me but to leave me with no choice!
For I know women cannot give a voice
To the desire that affects their whole being,
They'd rather men accost them then be seen--

F: Seen by who? And seen doing what? Leave me
Be! I desire only to leave you to
Yourself now that I see you are not free
To be the man I once thought of as you!

M: I've always been the man you see before
You now. I am what I am! There's more in store 
For such a one as you, who are my friend.
If you'll admit you're interest in bed--

F: What madness is this that takes you by the
Soul so that you should speak such, as though a
Demon were driving your wit and your mind?
Let me go! Open the door, or you'll find--

M: The beauteous raven that I once knew
Turn ravenous with anger, this tame shrew?
You can't fool me, for all women are
Of the same breed and like, those near and far!

F: Stay far off! Or I'll meddle with your brains!
Though I see now that you have none, nor heart!
Else you'd have understood the labor pains
With which I delivered my tale in part!

M: A tale of betrayal!? Harlot thou art!
Leading men on with a smile and a glance
As you joke and sigh and ask them to dance,
Such is your tale! As fatal as deaths dart!

F: Please let me go--Please--Let go, let go! No!
A beastly brute you are, you are but show!
Have you no sense in you to realize
That this act you commit you will despise?

M: Whether I shall despise it or you is
Hardly the matter on my mind. I'm more
Than willing to love you with a kind kiss
That I offered once before at the door!

F: You miss again my pointed cry and plea
For abstinence and for so much mercy
As you can muster! No please, don't do this!
It wont bring you the love you sought, no bliss!

M: Tis a bliss merely to act upon you,
To unleash the beast that you will soon rue,
To satiate with hell what heaven denied
With the maid I have many years espied.


                      More than Meets the Eye...(c) Luke Bennette, April 2013

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