Only One Love

Men are drawn by the magic
of her song,
competing with one another
in the labyrinth of her

frustrated by each
locked gate
on her emotional cage.

Eventually they discover
the only open way
is to return to the wilderness
from which they came,

she is oblivious to their
cries of love,
and only knows
passion when she plays.


For the art of Mike Worral featured at The Imaginary Garden. Some great pieces there, at least two of which are sure to still have poems left in them.



Filed under Poetry, Poetry - Prompts

12 responses to “Only One Love

  1. This is a really compelling, complex image, but I think you get to the heart of it, which for me is the closed nature of the central figure. You evoke the passion, and put it right in the box where it belongs, untouchable, private, reached though a maze, but too high up to share. Enjoyed it much, Mark.

  2. Kerry O'Connor

    The only open way is to return to the wilderness… What a beautifully poetic thought and intriguing solution within the abstract convolutions of your poem.

  3. I like where this took you – The passionate artist whose heart is a locked gate ~ The only way is to return to the wilderness , intriguing thought ~

    Thanks for participating in Sunday’s Challenge Mark ~
    Happy week ahead ~

  4. I agree with Kerry! I love that idea!

  5. othermary

    Someone needs to bring along a chainsaw! But seriously, really good piece Mark.

  6. Fabulous write. I adore that line break between the first and second stanzas.

  7. “each locked gate of her emotional cage” love that…

  8. They would not find her so compelling if she needed them to fulfill her passion. Therein lies the irony.

  9. Brendan

    I really like this, Mark. I can’t help wonder if this woman’s naked purpose was to help men find their own deep forests. Her music is pure, unadulterating. What we make of it is our own danga history. – Brendan

  10. beautifully meditative lines exposing music in the same spirit with the painting…..

  11. On some level this reminds me of Marilyn Monroe – I struggled to bring the gate into mine (I didn’t) as I used this same image. I adore that last stanza – no room for anyone really, but herself.

  12. really strong write, captures the image well ~ M

Some of what I write is true, some is fiction; most is merely possibility.

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