Beware of Men

 

Beware of men in suits, my son;

Trust not thyself to a woman in heels:

Whose hope is in the gleaming, glittering hoard;

Whose souls were long since traded on exchange,

Bought and sold

For silver and gold.

 

Follow them not down plushy corridors,

Through halls of vain regard and empty praise,

Up glassed and brassy steps to penthouse peaks,

Lush with cool-roof chambers,

Void of cheer,

Smooth and sleek with stain of dark veneer.

 

Beware of him whose name is on the door,

Keep watch on her who sits enthroned within,

Whose tongues like cooing birds behind their hands

Sift lies through smiles

And whispering wiles

And falter not while hope of conquest stands. 

 

Beware!  Their dewlapped hearts are far from thee,

Enwrapped in bills and bonds and shares and notes,

Blanketed and muffled to the ears

Against thy sad and solitary cry.      

Not fallen earth

Nor barren birth   

Can move them to the brink of bitter tears.   

   

Be not deceived nor follow in their way;

Forgo their cocktails, shun their happy hours.

No longer do they mind the soul’s bright spring:

They weep not with the dew

Nor shiver with the rain

Nor tremble with the leaf nor feel the pain.

 

Forsake the stocking sheer, the silken tie;

Return to the soil and taste the tang of earth. 

Put hand to plough, face front and trace thy furrow, 

Reclaim the dark and fecund fertile land.

Plant thy seed

Against thy need

And look not back where whitening pillars stand.