VARIATION ON YEATS "Love is like a Lion's Tooth:"

VARIATION ON YEATS "Love is like a Lion's Tooth"

Love arrived like thunder before a storm,
all pompous and out of breath.
It tingled with ozone and the odor of first rain.
It stung the eye with a splash of red roses
splayed against an neon blue wall.
It itched like wild strawberries on the tongue.
It planted butterflies deep in the stomach
like when a mangy dog licks your lips.
There was no howling of wolves

or wolfish howls, wolf whistles,
or an aural fixation of harp stings.
No angel bands dancing on pinheads

needed to apply for the job.

The position was already filled.
Love sharpened its claws and gnashed its fangs,
drew its customary pint of blood until the sky
was filled with such longing and an urge for
a rousing game of Tic-tac-toe with the moon.
The outcome was inevitable.
All those Xes and Os led them astray.

It was also a very long time ago.

6/14/2009

This was a prompt for a poem on the five senses for Donna