Artist

Alexander Averin

Thursday 18 July 2013

Beware of the Wolf


 
Tsars Ivan the son of the gray wolf by Viktor  Mikhailovich Vasnetsov
Tsars Ivan, the son of the grey wolf
Viktor Vasnetsov 1889
 
 
Beware of the Wolf
 
Unknown  to her, he was deadly, like nightshade
A crow or raven would have taken flight;
even a dog or a deer would have caught his scent but
she, gentle, like a bird, was shaky and only ever looked upward to the stars.
She thrived on romance, didn’t  notice the morass that she was nearing
nor the embers  burning beneath it.
She knew only how to give, to hold and not  break faith,
there was no finite quantity to her love.
Not fond of measuring, she couldn’t see they did not fit,
but he had sized her up and his lure, though tempting, was deeply insincere.
His ways were knaveish, wolfish,
more than a match for the naive or the squeamish.
His actions were shameless, slippery, dead to all honour.
A dealer  in the shabby, paltry, cunning and oblique,
he borrowed from her with a bribe and
in an extortionant, dishonest manner,
like a loanshark,  he stole away her innocence.

 


Cait O’Connor

8 comments:

My Grama's Soul said...

WOW!

Jo

Nina Milton said...

lovely; so matches the poem
Nina

Dave King said...

She knew only how to give, to hold and not break faith...

and s she never stood a chance!

How sad.

Fine poem.

Mac n' Janet said...

This was great! What a picture you've painted.

Mac n' Janet said...

This was great! What a picture you've painted.

Mac n' Janet said...

This was great! What a picture you've painted.

Ruth said...

Her instincts had been undone somehow. It is sad. "no finite quantity to her love ..." Your poem reminds me of the book Clarissa by Samuel Richardson. A torment, but a fabulous read.

Mary said...

Whew, this man seems related to the man in the following poem. Another strong character study here.