Not In Any Whim I Imagined Death Like This (Terzanelle) Poem by Gert Strydom

(after Ian Emberson)

As the loveliest girl with me death came to flirt,
death wanted to dance me to the end of my life,
she wore the shortest kind of mini skirt,

did not want to care about my mother, brother or wife,
took her advances to the depth of my heart,
death wanted to dance me to the end of my life,

almost tore it and my lungs apart,
burned like fire breathless in my chest,
took her advances to the depth of my heart,

touched me with a lingering kind of caress,
she startled remarked that with her I a not smitten,
burned like fire breathless in my chest

and she was more like a tigress than a kitten
I remark that not a person do imagine her like this,
she startled remarked that with her I a not smitten,

she was not saucy but a sincere kind of maiden miss
she almost did me right there beguile,
I remark that not a person do imagine her like this

and she looked at me with an impatient kind of smile,
as the loveliest girl with me death came to flirt,
she almost did me right there beguile,
she wore the shortest kind of mini skirt.

[Poet's note: "Danse macabre" by Ian Emberson.]