The Mistress

There is often a man within that wishes to escape. It is not that he does not desire or love the woman he has choosen to be by his side for life. there is something that overwhelmes him to search for a fulfilllment that has left him longing for that love which others cannot see. I have that longing, and have had for most of my life. It is difficult if not impossible to resist it is burned deep within my mind and heart. She has beauty that no woman seems to be able to overcome. She is my Mistress, she is known to my love, although without full understanding, she has fully accepted her presence.

The Mistress

There’s a lady, No let us say,

a woman a mature woman.

One that within her buxom,

has an eternal grasp on a man.


She entices with one whisper,

enough to say a million words.

She draws with one scent,

what all the perfume of the world cannot do.


She will lure him unto darkness,

with all her mysteries.

She will consume him with a heat,

that has conquered so many of her past.


She holds no regard

for the woman he will find in life.

She holds no sympathy,

for her empty or lonely heart.


She is a fearful mistress,

bringing a man to the edge of destruction.

Only to let him live and long,

for the day he might return.


Other women see her cruelty,

in her seeking for the love he has.

He only sees the lustful beauty

that draws him there.


There is no conquering this mistress,

for a woman has nothing with which to fight.

For whatever beauty a woman has,

is pale in comparison to those she possesses.


It is a wild lustful nature, he desires,

it calls him toward that which he views.

The site of skies, expanses of land,

mountain tops, that wish to take his hand.




The West, is a freedom that calls ,

in a whispering breeze

As dusk is overtaken by darkness,

he is overtaken by all he sees.


There’s a lady, No let us say,

a woman a mature woman.

One that within her buxom,

has an eternal grasp on a man.

© 2011 Merle Roehr