Will There Come a Day

April 1, 2012

See the dancer in a classic pose

Elegant, unstrained and calm her face,

Heedless of pain, weightless on her toes

Radiant, a symbolled form of grace.

Now the boxer bloodied in defeat

Rises slowly from his canvas bed,

The scorn of all his followers to meet

And yet for these he bravely fought and bled.

Comes the matador in his suit of lights

To brave the onslaught of the maddened bull,

In this cruel sport the thirsty crowd delights

And the spilth of blood savours to the full.

Will there come a day when beauty reins

And all our vital appetites shall cease

When love and joy replace desirous gains

And the prisoned spirit in man find release.