What harm is there; it’s just an image?
Lust inflamed, what is diminished?
Thoughts sidetracked from something noble.
Heat preferred to something soulful.
Women seen as objects, lacking
If their looks are not exacting.
Titillating and inflaming,
False desire is not sustaining.
Come the breaking of the morn,
Small comfort in the arms of porn.
There is a time and place to mate;
All other times, be celibate.
Not the words most want to hear;
But that they’re true is very clear.
The act itself is more than jollies,
Casual sex is selfish folly.
You miss the truth when lust you sate;
Good things come to those who wait.
From our archives 7/17/04
Wake up, sleeper, lest Van Winkle’s curse,
Crush you with years time will not reimburse,
Or leave you wandering like Poliphili,
Pursuing dreams to find his lorelei.
Time to awaken from my waking dream,
And lick the wounds from phantoms left unseen
As I searched for a goal I could not find —
Hollow illusion of a slumbering mind.
Throw down the pallet and take up the staff;
Turn from the bower and pursue the path.
I lost the way in my somnambulance,
But look for mercy and another chance.
Still shines the sun as brightly overhead.
And though I am bereft, I am not dead.
One step, another and I’m pressing on.
I may have faltered, but I’m not undone.
Wake up, sleeper, lest life pass you by,
Time is a gift and wasting it, you die,
For what’s been lost playing a dreamer’s game
Are portions of your life never reclaimed.From our archives 10/1/2004
More Poems by Kathryn E. Darden: