So Much For Vanity.

She would seek the exotic!

Not for her the safely temperate

where a beast is either horse or dog

or, indeed, for her, some offending male.

And now she is gone, is no more,

taken, as she was, while on holiday,

by, good God!, a crocodile.

I loved her. It was, I believe, her due.

And yet I never dared to pursue my cause.

She was just so .... superior.

Her every gesture, every utterance,

even her garments, her trinkets,

being hers, gained a special grace.

Love works that way you might remark,

and yet I feel the loveliness came first.

She could, I admit, be somewhat sharp,

and, yes, I was wary of such sharpness

when tempted to expose my heart.

She was a lady, and she knew it.

Yet one must suppose that all her charms

were lost upon that predator.

He felt no awe, no reverence.

blind to her daunting character

as is gravity to the one who falls.

What a shock for her! Just imagine!

Bad enough the physical agony

as the lethal jaws embraced her

and she knew her doom had come,

but the insult, for one so fine,

to the sanctity of her self-esteem,

to find herself reduced to .... meat!,

to the terrible anonymity

of matter being consumed by matter.