Poem -
Huntress
She had stalked him on and off
for years
or so it seemed, back in the day ..
Much like some
native tribal warrior may have
stalked their prey ..
In the then, big flash city or in
the bush even ..
That is precisely what he used
to think, way back ..
Yet no cage, trap, or snare was
ever primed,
laid, or set though, since she
relied entirely
on self-presented bait and lures ..
But still he
could not forget just how many
scalps she had
collected, since that day when
they first met
in an old redundant elevator
on the way
to buying coffees, from the top
floor café bar
and restaurant, way back in 76 ..
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Comments
INTERESTING POEM LINDA
Ta for the comment LINDA LANK & truly :)
Strong lines… enjoyable read as always. I prefer being the hunter than the prey, unless they’re a “sexy” Huntress…. Lol😂
My fiancé reminded me I’m already on a leash….
Thanks Tiger :)
Nev, a revealing read and anything deadlier than the male is hot stuff in my book.
And so was 76.
Thanks for sharing Nev and rekindling those 76 memories.
Thank you Shaun, you just made this old fella's first smile on this brand new day ..
When love, or lust, comes calling— it really gets you. You don't stand a chance with a femme fatale ( is that what they're called?) Another fab write dear Neville x
Yes, I do believe that is what they are, or at least, were once called ..
I am helpless at the very thought of it .. Thanks for calling Tina, so much appreciated, I doubt you could ever imagine .. x
❤️