Sentinel Poetry (Online) #37

3rd Anniversary Issue – December 2005

ISSN 1479-425X










Loathing their lascivious life

Vowed to hate women, to not take a wife


Chaste as a celibate but in his dreams

came women, fleeting quick and fast as beams


Call it his destiny, or fate: a muse

worked wonders in his mind his skill to use


As master chizzler he began to knock

a perfect woman from an ivory block


(A prize from the emperor acknowledging)

his genius in the art of chizzling


Which when completed, he lay eyes upon

and fell in love with- desired it strong whereon


He realised, it was but an ivory maid

unravished yet and chaste - an idol made


By his own hands, with his own fingers shaped

his whole being raved; his mind seemed by it raped


Knowing it is madness he insanely wrapped

his arms around its neck, he finger-tipped


Her cheeks and brushed them lightly, snuggled

Tickle-kissed - as if he on kisses lived 


Shunning all arguments of real unreal         

believed reality is what we feel


So bought he little gifts all lovers buy

their girlfriends; scents and watches, by the by


He gave her seashells, pearls and precious stones

little birds tweeting on in diverse tones


And flowers: roses, (fleurs de lys) and

pendants with drops of amber - in her hand


Then one day he wrapped a cashmere shawl

about her shoulders, blood-red: wherewithal


Studded with earrings and bejewelled to her eyes

musky, intoxicating, swoony, wise


And then he stripped her naked; one by one

the presents came off slowly, every one


He stripped her naked till she was full nude

he stared at agonising beauty, rude


Pure, undefiled, he could comprehend

the articulacy of holy flesh, it’s portend


Except he’d a ring on her finger placed

to signify; no longer was he chaste


“You're mine my wine forever till I've breath

in these my lungs I'll love you beyond death”


My grave shall sprout with lilies for your love

and men shall sing of me - and gods above


He cushioned her with weaves of Tyrian purple

and talked to her; he seemed with words to startle


Till came the day of offerings for the feast

of Venus - gilded horns the milky beast


Was offered at the altars of devotion

Pygmalion offered his and asked a solution



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