Fair ladies drift
Into the moonlight streets
Until defenseless men
Howl like werewolves
In midnight’s drunken delirium.
Where should I go
To protect my vulnerable soul
From the captivating charm of the feminine?
Even a desert monk
Might see a mirage of a wayward girl
Walking alone in the sand.
But for every skirt I’ve seen,
I’ll crush a glass of wine
And bow my head to Venus
And every other sovereign divine
Who tempts men to love a woman
Who will leave him trembling
In some dark, alluring maze
Impossible to escape.
Uriah Hamilton
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/every-skirt-i-ve-seen/
