A Sexist Jeer

In the ladies' seat of life I rest,

With my eyes tightly shut,

Lest a fairer, daintier one,

Displace me with a shove and frown!

Sonnet #3

The miles between a bed of live coals,

Simmering cruelly to singe my feet,

The air and ringlets of smoke enfolds,

My stifled urges and fears discreet,

I yearn for the air that gracefully held,

The plumes of thy timeless fragrance,

The curls on thy cheek that I once beheld,

And thy throaty impish cadence,

That clumsily broke into fervent cheers,

At every innocuous jibe and jest,

Gulping mouthfuls of indefinite fears,

And smothering every doubt in my chest,

I carelessly leap and sprint along in vain,

My feet and tired soul now rejoice in pain.