Judas Poem by Marguerite Anderson

Judas came knocking at my door
All this time his back was turned
And I could not see his face,
But he was beautiful
And his voice gentle
And I found myself caught
Under his spell.
He was strong and strapping.
He didn't make the next move,
For his unexpected visit
needed no reprove.
And I could not forsake;
I was already desperate for a mate
Someone to talk to in my darkest hour.
So in my weakness
I reached out to touch him
with his beautiful brooding figure hovering.
Then Judas' smile became a snarl,
And his hands around my neck tightly pinned.
I fought my way out of that trance
And on my bed as I ensconced
I was reminded that my Judas friend
Is one who wants me dead.