Michael Edwards

FOR SHE WOULD BE NO ODALISQUE

 

 

 

FOR SHE WOULD BE NO ODALISQUE

 

 

 

Haunted by the falling stars

her hopes and fears

like meteors

in transient passage soon dispersed

absolved from importunate hold

no more his lies which pleased her ill

of finely seasoned flattery

like poisoned draughts of nectar served

beneath the cold autumnal skies

now lost eternally in mists

for she would be no odalisque.