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The Mistress

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She gave relief and companionship,

And in return sought none.

Not because she was a saint,

but because her services to mankind

were too sublime to be repaid,

by gold and gems and kind words,

by promises of love and honesty.

And in her ‘unwantedness’ she reveled,

Offering sympathy to those who deserved,

Kindly correcting the flaws,

After all humans are but fallible.

Losing her was a nightmare.

Possessing her was a hopeless dream.

She had nothing to lose.

Except a few tears of remorse,

Which she would brush off in the morning.

She never wished to be wanted.

She was a gust of wind,

Not to be tamed.

She was a wayward cloud,

Not to be caged…


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