Dishyssoise Poem by Dean Meredith

She constructs an excellent dipping sauce
World hunger registers on my screen
But she is beautiful and seductive
I think she's lost weight too
In sympathy or for vanity
‘D' - all of the above

A cricket ball bangs through her window
The game is on next door
The red scuffed shiny ball bounces
Ricochets from floor to wall
And back it comes, just missing
Comes to rest under the stove

It's ok, they have other balls
And besides, she's too busy for this
Privy Council, neighbours on the other side
Said nothing, played on, not out
Six but not out in grown up play
Her cue to tantalize and enthral

It seemed as though she'd been raised for it
Genetically enhanced, ready to take the field
A few plump mushrooms, a toadstool or two
Granny's harsh profound words
She imagined having a Nona instead
Then realized they were both the same

She brandished wit and skill
And sex-appeal, let's not forget that
She'd paid attention, appeased the genes
Appeased the old bats living through her
Loved them for their tricks and stews
All knowing the wait well worth it
Slow and steady, she repaid her dues