Chenoa's Riddle Poem by James Walter Orr

I heard the words the lady said;
Their meanings clear, with little doubt.
I answered where her statement led,
and soon was in a sparring bout.


'You cannot read my mind, ' said she.
'I never really thought I could.'
'You don't know what I mean, you see.'
'Then please explain it, if you would.'


'I hate it when you condescend! '
'Oh please, just tell me what you say!
Lets bring this sparring to an end! '
She shook her head and turned away.


Her hair swung in a shim'ring arc,
like diamonds pouring from a pail,
with firelight mixing in the dark,
and starlight down each flick'ring trail.


I saw her graceful body go,
her long hair swinging past her waist;
Why must this gesture taunt me so?
So slow to come, to leave in haste.