What are the best ones you’ve written, said she;
Why, all the proud poesies mirroring you,
Prized precious runes written with glee
Applauding your beauty as dear poems should do.
You’ve flattered others in similar rhyme
Extolling their virtues, this I do know,
A lady in waiting…a knave with a line
Is but a story that oft has been told.
Truth is a virtue that all bards know well —
By license of pen I have gilded a phrase
To ferret out graces that sight may not tell,
But never advancing nefarious ways;
Now rest assured, as words are my bond,
Come lay beside me and hear my sweet song.
© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.