Pierrot’s Embrace, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Pierrot's EmbrancePierrot’s embrace, Guillaume Seignac (c. 1900)

Pierrot’s Embrace

Pierrot, the white face clown
Will lift you up when you’re down
Won’t allow you to be mad
Won’t allow you to be sad
His smile is a magic lure
He’s a lover that’s for sure
He likes ‘yes’, but never ‘no’
His skills so eager to show
Will capture you with his arms
Employing his many charms
If looking for true romance
With Pierrot not a chance
Beware, he is but a rake
For his words of love are fake

Broken Vows, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Broken VowsBroken Vows, Philip Hermogenes Calderon (1856)

Broken Vows

Without seeing, feel love no longer true
His touch not now as it was at the start
Feeling grieving black, not bright sunny blue
The aching pain, crushing my bleeding heart

Needing to know, one day followed his path
Much laughter each enjoying the folly
Would it be correct to display my wrath
Thinking my character it would sully

Without showing anger called him a rake
Said that within me there remains a glow
Asked if what he’s doing be a mistake
His answer being that he did not know

Once felt we were one, now we are apart
Hoping to overcome a broken heart

 

An Arrow for a Rake, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Frith William Powell 1872
Toxophilites, William Powell Frith (1872)

An Arrow for a Rake, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Spent, a straight arrow is swift and silent,
When properly placed upon hickory.
With effort soon be master of the hunt,
Able to flick the wings off of a flea.

My prime target should be an easy chore,
Though it moves ever stealthy in the night.
Often found at another’s bedroom door,
Will not be hard to get it in my sight.

The object is an arrow in its heart,
For the deep aching pain it has caused me.
Some will say my actions not very smart,
But will have joy, tho hanging from a tree.

There be nothing worse than my vengeful scorn,
That awful rake shall regret he was born.