That I was never worthy of your love
Has been declared by many a sharp tongue;
Yet hearing such did spur me to reprove—
Of all your suitors, I sought love alone.
Though lacking of fine purse, I drew my wage;
No title given—this I won with sense,
Sound proper wit, no wisdom of an age;
Life was my school, and toil my recompense.
With righteous patience I did bide my time,
Each promise made, in truth I swore to keep;
One purpose sure—that you’d be ever mine,
True love thus sown, in vested hope to reap.
Though not of noble birth, I begged your hand—
Not lord nor king…but still, a self-made man.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.