O serpent, servant of treacherous deceit,
Thine wicked guise, a stealthy foe discreet,
Thy slithered dance, enchanting prey to fall,
In essence vile, entwined in nature's thrall.
Oh, how thy venom drips, the whispering sting,
A sonnet's hellish tale, thy craft will bring.
Yet, in thy guise, I find a twisted grace,
Within thy slinking scales, a poet's trace.

© C.Warner