Ides’ Crystal Tears
by Jonathan Quince
Tuesday, March 15, 2005 18:19:41
Dark night would struggle with silvery light of the full moon’s revenge:
Daylight had witness’d a legend’s demise; under shadows sanguine,
Sun dimm’d to bleakness o’er echoes of Senators’ cries, weary men’s sighs.
Treachery bought from such murderous will pardon’d, knives flashing sharp,
Caesar lay bleeding on chill stone’s embrace, early Death on his face.
Tyrant or hero, this giant fell thus leaving empty his bedchamber:
She, now so cold lacking warmth of his arms, shiver’d weeping for memory.
Courtesan’s secrets no history knows tell of virile, empassioned sex-trysts,
Lust-soaked hot hours that melted to moments of beauteous union; with
Caesar inside her depths living, their dance match’d the glory of his days to nights.
Gone now a lifetime, such loss is a shroud over she the unknown;
Tragedy’s touch did replace his with loneliness and unforgiving…
Years spring to thousands; but civilized scholarship holds mem’ry sacred!
So, Ages of Future, forget not the silent-borne suff’ring heart-broken of
She to whom Brutus, heir traitor, bequeath’d this March Ides’ crystal tears.