Felix Dennis

  A funny thing, betrayal,
   The lover, son or daughter
In ambush on the trail;
   The battle cry, ‘No quarter!’

The rattling of bones
   Grown rotten in the waiting,
The dreams of Caesar’s moans,
   The harvest mite of hating

Hatched as a scorpion, pronged
To sting their alma mater—
(For one must have belonged
   To truly play the traitor).

A funny thing, betrayal,
   For victim and for slayer:
Whichever speaks the tale
   Rebukes ‘that foul betrayer!’

Mandalay, Mustique December 17, 2005

This poem is a work in progress. It is incomplete, unfinished and has not been revised. It is meant only to offer a glimpse into the notebook of a poet at work. Please do not post it onto other sites or publish it in any form. Thank you — Felix Dennis