|July 28, 1999|
Poem from David Donlon
SHE ASSAYED A MYSTERIOUSQUEST
For the last time let's gird up theknight:
The shining armor, sharp sword and shield,
Helm and visor; lead the charger
Toward battle, to tilt with the dragon thatis
Not woman but the myth of woman,
Once more, and finally, to slay the many
Liv'd beast, and let the woman come out
As she may, at least no longer mythy.
Draw thy sword and swing as you pass, warrior!
Yet, no? Do you dare tempt the wrath of thebeast?
Stay -- surely that shining hair that spillsout
Thy helm belongs to no man. Then at your own
Comand, warrior! I am no sovereign here. Thy
Self is sovereign and beholden to none, noteven
To a poet. At this pass, perhaps she will... yet
As she may. What? Dismounted? Oh, woman,
What is thy game? I am overmastered here --I
Must hold my tongue, or write of men and dogs.
Archives David's page