I wish that I had seen her when she danced: A living flame in so much candlelight, Bright-colored breasts of humming-birds enhanced The sandals that she wore on that mad night. White peacocks spread their tails in lacy fans An ivory filigree to match her grace, Salome, victim of her mother's plans, Bowed low and smilingly unveiled her face. I cannot think that she was wholly bad -- And if good John the Baptist had possessed The gentle patience that his Master had He might have saved her soul; with sins confessed Salome could have held an oriflamb That bore the holy symbol of the lamb. |