Bows of Holly

Here is a poem I wrote a few years ago. In light of current occurrences, I thought it apropos... You'll get it before it ends. Once again, it rhymes -- something that is not entirely in vogue.



She's the shining star we all desire
That none can ever rule
Your heart burns for her like a fire
But you are just her tool
She's the old man's broken dream
And yet the young boy's folly
Slicker than a bowl of steam
People call her "Holly"



The face she wears is stunning, though
A most deceptive guise
Her whim will bring you running, though
Her wiles confound the wise
Being seen with her will frame
The diffident secure
Her colder shoulder, though, will name
The confident demure



Morally, she knows no bounds
She'll draw you to the pit
You marvel at the sights and sounds
And beg for one more "hit"
She's a fickle paramour
Her lovers span the globe
Their broken hearts on every shore
Still blinded by the strobe
She takes them, chews them up, and spits
Them out like melon seeds
When wined and dined and danced, she quits
Them once they've met her needs



What makes a person while so vain,
So ceaselessly divine?
The prize, when won, soon soaks the brain
In salty pickle brine
It could be our necessity
For fortune and for glory
Perhaps we find it best to be
The center of the story
It seems that most would pawn the heart
For billing and a statue
And wouldn't you tear your soul apart
To have the world look at you?



The masses court disaster for
A night in Babylon
(Of) Illusion she's the master, for
You'll wake and she'll be gone
Your puerile fantasy becomes
A living, breathing hell
The ruling sounds are pounding drums,
And sorrow's telling knell
You wonder if she really cared
Somewhere down deep within
But in the dark she only bared
A wicked, mordant grin



She prances with the attitude
Of one who knows she's wanted
She peppers you with platitudes
Her skill is widely vaunted
She seems to prosper, seems to thrive
But most will never know
That Holly needs us to survive
She'll never let it show
For if we turned our backs on her
She'd wither like a leaf
She hides it well, would much prefer
To revel in our grief



So lose you will on Beverly's hill
Or dip where Sunset strips
Dance the dance and take your fill
Of Holly's poison lips
The Siren's not resisted, so
Don't stray within her range
The melody is twisted, so
Will certainly derange



Who would grind your soul to powder
Crush you into dust?
Whose seductive song grows louder
Begging for your trust?
Who would rip your heart asunder
Meaning you no good?
(You) Know the answer, needn't wonder
Surely -- Holly would!

Copyright 2001, Derrick L. Williams