Classic Poem

full voluptuous lips,
the other pole
a far-away look,
the eyes pure hazel.
Voluptas
in the inner city,
the eyes
forbidden to show it.
They had fled
to the north
to remain chaste
and cool
and to escape
public disaster,
for there had been
an uprising
(but of that
no glimpse)
and she had been
surprised and taken,
inaccessible loveliness
and all,
transient,
unbearably moving.

Two years later
the eyes were clear
and confident
and held me firmly,
the teeth larger,
the face strong.
A peasant had moved in.