Billye Lane


She’s a red-head, gypsy
a highway child —
with earth stains on her feet.
She’ll woo you with whimsy,
and drive you wild —
then leave you in the street.


Alchemical flames
from the moment you touch her
Abandon your hope
Let go of your goal
The picture you take is all that you’ll
keep of her —
Except for the brand that she
leaves on your soul.





I wrote the preceding poem for the August Postcard Poetry Festival, and mailed it off to fellow festival participant, Lucia Sanford.  She replied a few weeks later, with a response poem, indicated above with italics.


Burn With Me?


If the rush of adrenaline
lasts only as long
as this poem…

If the attraction
flickers and flames,
from the very first rhyme…

If you know,
with every new stanza,
that we’ll tumble headlong…

If we’re kissing and groping,
smoldering all the way
to the very last line…

Will the flicker of heat
be enough to hold you,
until the ink and the words ignite…

Will you burn
in the fires of passion,
until climax leaves you gasping…

Will you start again,
when the ink runs out,
will you read slower this time?