A WOMAN SCORNED: a sonnet

A WOMAN SCORNED: a sonnet


A woman scorned is a hungry tigress,
She’s out to kill the object of her hate.
Energy of a fiend she can possess,
Let none in her path hide or lie in wait.

But unlike a tigress she won’t show claws,
She would instead keep smiling and look calm.
Only her heart knows it has fatal flaws
And that her poison is disguised as balm.

Woe be to those who happen to cross her.
She knows no bounds and harbours no scruples.
Up to hell she would pursue and badger
Those who happen to hit at her knuckles.


Men be forewarned, don’t harass a woman.
She can well be a pernicious omen.


NOTE-- While many attribute the quote "hell hath no fury like a woman scorned" to William Shakespeare (1564-1616), it actually comes from a play called the "The Mourning Bride" (1697) by William Congreve (1670-1729). The complete quote is "Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned / Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned."


M C Gupta
3 April 2008