Intense eyes, a majestic eagle,
circling high, is the air she carries,
a samba dancer luscious, who strikes
blow after blow with her belly button,
central stage always is hers
a bird of pray elegant on the look out,
the heightened awareness from
a sense of clear danger present,
is the reward she assures,
to him every minute for being her escort.
Rub her right, rub her wrong,
find what it would bring was his itch
the eagle woman conceals nothing,
keeps her eyes keen, wide open,
her mind a radar, focused on
what is to happen the moment next,
from mid air like a missile she swoops down,
stand still for a moment and then strikes,
she is on her prey, but he has
slipped away, at the precise moment.
Both are in awe of each other, but smiles,
on the dance floor they are glued to each other,
he now plans a daring plot,
named "The sword of Damocles"
she is of two minds, love this game,
finds him fitting the bill,
yet the bird of prey awaits time for the next raid
"He is made of dainty stuff".
A protracted, slightly dangerous, courting game
a siren, and more a femme fatale and her wily suitor
play a game of one-upmanship.....whoever wins, it will complicate the problem