Botticelli’s flytrap
Michelangelo carved rock to sculpture
At Shakespeare’s hand, a sonnet to tease us
On the plinth the bronze bust is now culture
By dawn’s light Botticelli did Venus
Such sweet surrender one could bring to touch
In liberal ways from whence to observe
By morning’s light or starry night be such
Hushed, so to dwell in candor’s dull reserve
In moments of imaginings transfixed
Freed not by shame nor virtue nor by lust
But to extol the beauty caught betwixt
Vicissitudes transcribed by ways of trust
We kneel in adoration its servant
Zealous intentions lie wasted, in vain
No perfumed airs, just man reverberant
The common wretch: deluge, and beauty’s bane
Obligation is not freely granted
And temptation is quickly bought to bear
Falls by the wayside for no seed ’s planted
And the common wretch doth not reap so fair
To be bold as Michaelangelo’s slap
As sacred as Shakespeare’s script to cheat us
Venus caught in Botticelli’s flytrap
Just another bleeding heart to greet us
To seize the rebel’s fortress whilst idle
As fool’s gold, just by another title
