Saturday, February 19, 2011

My Waitress

Thy Maid? Ah, find some nobler theame
       Whereon thy doubts to place;
Nor by a low suspect blaspheme
      The glories of thy face.
–Abraham Cowley,
from The Waiting-Maid

She’s your fantasy figure
but not a woman
tangled up in ropes.
Like a waiting-maid,
She wears a black apron
(but not for me to hold).
She moves perfectly
to capture my words.
She sweetens my tea
and will serve me
till I die.

Beautiful enough
to let me go…

No comments: