Saucy mistress, she!
Enticing and tempting me so
With gentle, merry, mellifluous dreams
And Keats’ things of beauty-
The young tree, mid-forest brake and streams
Saucy mistress, she
Liar! The embodiment of deceit!
The slightest commotion and away she fled
The dreams, the peace, all woebegone
Left – the death grip of unrest and dread
I waited, with baited
Breath, I waited. Familiar with the gloom
Her virgin embrace I seeked, and wept.
Called out to the Gods, my beloved, the mistress
It must have worked! Because finally, I slept!