Arch Nemesis

What Is the “Ides” of March? | Britannica

Beware the Ides! foretells the fall
Of he who rose to conquer Gaul
And lands still further from his home
This warrior, this son of Rome.
On his return to claim his right
A haruspex with second sight
Met Caesar by the Senate arch
To warn him of the Ides of March.
They’d killed an ox and found no spleen
An omen that could only mean
The Consul should fear for his life
As did, Calpurnia, his wife.
But Caesar didn’t fear the gods
For he had overcome the odds
To overshadow mortal men
And take his seat in Rome again.
So came the day, but nothing passed
Until the Senators amassed
Fulfilling what was prophesied
Thus, on the fifteenth, Caesar died.
Of every haruspex, it’s said
They earn their living from the dead
And though they claim the role of seer
It’s often what we overhear

Double Cross

Thirty Pieces of Silver | Sara's Musings

But somewhere, somehow Judas turned

And walked away from all he’d learned

So, when the two men dipped their bread

They both knew one would soon be dead.

We’re not sure how it came to this

Why he betrayed him with a kiss

To bring about the earthly end

Of someone he had called a friend.

Arrested, tortured, hung to die

While soldiers laughed and women cried

His friend collected his reward

And hoped the cause had been restored.

But this betrayal had a price

Which cost poor Judas paradise

He lost his friends then lost all hope

And wound up swinging from a rope.

Where is he now? God only knows

Good people pray for his repose

In hope our own friends keep us close

At those times when we need them most

Seasoned Greetings

When greeting guests in Tokyo

The custom is to bow down low

While in Tibet both old and young

Say hi by sticking out their tongue.

In France it’s chic to peck the cheek

And friends will clap in Mozambique

Though Greenlanders will sniff your face

Before they help you with your case.

Most Eskimos rub nose to nose

In India they touch your toes

And Zambians will squeeze the thumbs

Of visitors considered chums.

Through handshakes, winks and nods we say:

I’m pleased that you dropped by today!

And bless those friends who always know

The sign for when it’s time to go…

If It Ain’t Baroque…

Nudism in cubism

Falls under The Abstract

And artist folk behind each stroke

Admit it’s inexact.

The avant garde can leave some jarred

So, should you choose to pose

Don’t be surprised to find your eyes

Where most look for their toes.

Knight Shift

silhouette photography of person

Take me to that fabled time

When destiny was more sublime

When noble quests were blessed by God Himself

Where crones intoned prophetic rhymes

While wizards read the stars for signs

And deep within each hollow hid an elf.

Take me to a time before

When magic could unlock a door

And conjurers cried out Abracadabra!

Where every frog tried to convince

Young maidens he might be a prince

And sonnets were composed by candelabra.

To play a brazen game with Death

One leap beyond the dragon’s breath

Dispatching ogres twice the height of men

And then, to lay beneath a tree

While my sweet Lady sings to me

For as she does, my soul’s restored again.

Take me to that fabled time

The course now clear

No more to roam

Astraeus, chart the stars for home