Armor: A Poem

Spinning

I am strength and beauty in my ancient armor.

Battling each lord and knight

Hiding behind my faceplate

 

Yet I wonder

Is there any sword that can pierce this steel?

Or lance that can stay this spinning?

Might a mace expose the bone of a hidden mind?

 

Or will I forever remain covered?

 

Ever encased.

 

Ever turning.

Without pause

To rest

From the battlefield

 

Dating Life: A Poem

You want me to perform on stage

For you alone

An actress reciting lines written long ago

When you first imagined nubile girls

And felt stirrings sensual and strange

 

You ask for a curtain call

But the first act has not yet begun

Or even been rehearsed

 

I am outside this theater looking up

At its neon lights.

Wondering whether to step inside

 

Or run from their harsh glare

To the soft twinkling

Of country summer.

 

You want my ecstatic dance

To rise like a crescendo before your eyes

My limbs twisting and convulsing in

Tribal rhythms

 

But the music has yet to play

And I am wrapped in the silence.

 

You want an aria, a magnum opus

A soprano hitting notes so high

As to shatter hearts.

 

But I am just a woman.

And can’t even sing on key.