Take one [sonnet]
I set out riding once at dusk, for exercise, by bike
riding along a cemetery’s tranquil summer trails.
God’s wonders peeking forth from evening veils
I mused along vague themes: Life – and suchlike…
Rounding one swift curve a classic vision assailed:
three nubile maids in nylon, fresh from the pool.
this trinity passed so swift that I, mad fool,
Beheld three graces in my mind; reverie prevailed.
Midst sepulchers of death’s demise I wondered at the sight…
Was I Paris? Judgment thus impaired by youth and beauty,
bemused, my mind’s eye lingered on… distracted in its duty.
Ah careless sprites, that eve – were you the resurrection’s dawn?
(But on the third go-by my heavenly thoughts fell down to earth
Carnality resumed; I scanned their suits of flesh for worth…)
Take two [rhymed couplets]
While I rode out one summer eve through a cemetery’s peaceful cheer
I chanced upon three suburban maids in Lycra swimming gear
fresh from the pool among the tombs…or fresh from the tombs to revisit earth?
Arrested now my thoughts, I passed in resurrected beauty’s birth.
My sight and mind strange tricks did play. I couldn’t believe my eyes
amidst the dead, upon green paths, I lingered on their graceful thighs.
I pedaled fast and asked the Lord: what brings such lovely damsels here?
Around I rode, then passed again. As visions surged, the heavens drew near.
A little further now they’d strayed from where I first had seen them. Then
their brightening smiles stopped time. And so I passed them yet again…
Distracted now from holy thoughts I mused upon their girlish faces
[Thus Paris faltered before the three, confusing goddesses with graces]
What led them thus to flit so very young among the balmy graves?
A thousand questions surged that verged on blasphemy. Still Paris raves
of lissome bodies on the grass, the bright-eyed smiles, the lovely lasses
naive in nylon innocence, like Botticellian trespasses…
But they were simply walking home, and took a shortcut through the grave
and they were young, but now I’m old – and a dying renaissance knave.
Take three [haiku]
Early dusk graveyard:
Three nubile girls – wet swimsuits…
Or was I lapsing ?