He walks like Caesar in the sun
His shoulders squared, his back erect.
His eyes look out on battles won
Their raw ambition yet unchecked.
And I within his orbit having come
Am powerless to myself protect.
One glance from him, one inviting grin
And all my resistance fades away.
His voice over me some enchantment spins
And I fall beneath his potent sway.
The spell is cast, the dance begins
I offer myself up as his willing prey.
And once within his vice-like grip
I abandon all my hopes of love.
As he both my gown and honor strips
I feel the freedom of a dove.
At last released from self-censorship
I shed the reputation I was never worthy of.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Yikes, Suzanne, another sizzler. And you manage, craft-wise, to do it in good rhyming verse. It’s a small thing against the whole of what you’ve achieved here, but to myself protect is a bit of a bump to my contemporary ear. Good! Hot! -Glen
For some reason, I love writing sonnets and other verses in rhyme and meter. It is kind of like practicing scales or doing a copy of a painting at the Louvre. And that is probably why they end up being set in the time of the poem they are imitating. But these exercises often serve to prime the pump for other poems.