THE PRICK
Within the compass of his home
beneath a hemispheric dome
of clear perspex, upon a tray
were cheese and crackers on display
Gloss magazines could not have shown
them better; wine from Côtes du Rhone
was on his bar, there too a map,
casually placed, all meant to trap
And this, more artifice than art
had purpose, to capture a heart
of virgin white, one still quite pure
if she would bite, accept his lure
How fortune frowns upon the sly
the lass, while on her way, had spied
some ripe blackberries, pricked her thumb
so crying, she’d run home to Mum
Alan McAlpine Douglas
(Challenge words : compass tray cheese crackers
magazine wine bar map art blackberry)