She danced through Carnival all night behind her mask hiding,
amongst the revelers of Rio, whose secrets they were confiding.
She whispered words of enchantment upon the wealthy men,
who spilled their coin aplenty for one touch of her mocha skin.
She laughed with the troupe as the moon kissed the night,
and once her pockets were full, she disappeared from sight.
Later some would come to have their fortunes told by an old hag,
whose only form of dress was dirty, tattered rags;
they paid more coin only to hear the same voice of the dancer,
and her eyes gave away the fact that she was indeed the enchanter.
The men slammed their fists and asked her how she came to be so old,
as she smiled and cackled to them, "Age is merely an illusion, if truth be told."
A contest entry
- Hues of Red in 12 Lines or Less (there's a catch) by The Fun House.
1050 points, ended January 3, 19 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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A good tale you've spun here. I like the how strong the imgagery is in the first stanza and I do like the ending it is strong. A good piece of poetry
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That's very clever! I love it!
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Thanks.
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