Besotted, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

BesottedDouble portrait, Oskar Kokoschka (c. 1912)

Besotted

She moves her body with hypnotic grace.
Euphonious words does she softly sing.
A smitten smile she wears upon her face.
My heart has been struck by scorpion sting.

Turning to me, offers her silken hand,
Kissed, looking into her ravenous eyes,
Of my every thought she took full command.
Her Siren’s song firmly sealed my demise.

As butter on a sunny window sill,
With her every carnal touch I did melt.
Thinking, it is me she shall surely kill.
Yet, better I have never before felt.

Many a friend claims that I besotted,
Was when I met her that this all started.