Helen
Helen
The face that launched
a thousand ships
smiled at me across the years.
Dark brilliant eyes
and perfect lips
reflecting in timeless mirrors.
Her poise, her grace,
her Grecian brow,
invaded my unguarded mind.
Lithe supple frame
so near somehow,
more intoxicating than the wine.
Ancient beauty,
yet so young;
the lure of fervor's afterglow?
Sweet liquid love,
from olive wrung,
forbidden fruit I dare not know.
My grape is too ripe
to suit the blend,
her heart lies beyond my zeal,
yet fair Helen
shall be sweet friend
and ever my Achilles heel.
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