Ever Thus

It's as if a barbarian enters a room in Rome,
And sees a queen. A man, a wretch, an hourly
Slave, among similar sorts, looks up and sees
A woman, incongruous, laboring, elegant!
Beautiful eyes; no, not quite eyes, but lines
She's drawn around them, and her hair, so
Simply styled, right, and the clothes that
She wears, and the way that she walks, and
She speaks. She's articulate, and she smiles.
The poor barbarian stammers and stares,
And the queen, his ruler, never his, begs
His pardon, and turns, and leaves.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 14 times
Written on 2011-12-13 at 01:02

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