Dante and Beatrice in Florence. Poem No.1

       
      Distilled fear terrorises this vision of perfection,
A tumult of lonely confusion snagged on the townscape
Like a fraught dream that is yet to materialise, erupt, overwhelm,
      Dissolve the quiet hinterland of Dante`s imagination
      With an abrupt squall of chaotic emotion
As he leans upon the narrow parapet, a courtly, half bidden admirer
Unconscious of danger, the caricaturist of Hell confirmed as a poet
       Entranced by her smile illuminating her beauty
As she steps, momentarily, across the half hidden courtyard
       Of the orderly house that he dare not enter.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter

August 7th. 2009  -  March 23rd. 2010.