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In the Corner of your Rye.


The windswept autumn evening leapt,

“Not yet!” he heard in the collar by his ear

Glances everywhere did not steer,

To the voice of temptation’s guide

To the volition of wretched lies,

Drawn in he saw her guise

The apparition with no eyes,

She laughed in rapture at what was to come

Laughing at how easy it was;

When man was so dumb.

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Categories: Art, Humor, PoetryTags: , , , , , , , , , , ,

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