Rosemary’s Lure Quartet

Rosemary, Rosemary Quite Contrary

Part I: Allure
Rosemary, Rosemary
Rosemary, Rosemary, you're so contrary;
Tell me, how does your garden so grow?
It grows without weeds, as I care for its needs,
My sundress protecting the show!

I can see, oh my gosh, you bent working your squash,
With the Sun streaming through, don't you know?
Well, my good man, that has been my plan.

I see it works well—here’s a hoe!

If you hoe my garden, I'll grant you this pardon
To enjoy some fruit of your labor,
My web spins a lie, a trap for the fly,
You may come in; I'll allow you this sin,
To taste my sweet juices that flow,

If this sounds tempting, I will be exempting
Your spying on me in my row,
For tomorrow, you'll see, I'll be naked and free,
And you will be begging to sow.

I'll grant you reprieve, and I'll let you leave;
I won't live up to my name,
But if you don't go, you'll get the whole show
And see why I'm called the Black Widow.
© Noisy Wren ’15

Prose: Widow’s Lure
Rosemary’s sundress sways, with a whispered lie, and her garden hums with secret blooms.
A traveler grips her hoe, his eyes caught in her play, and a fly twitches in her web unseen.
Her lips promise sin, but her trap springs, revealing her smile as a blade.