A master of characterization
After moments of gesticulation
Your characters become universal
Images play without dress rehearsal .
First created, an idealistic knight,
Who teaches the perfect techniques to fight.
Next danced a lad of ladies' desire .
Your words described me, "a lad of fire."
A counterfeit nun pilgrimed with the bunch.
She starved her dogs to have a second lunch,
Yet, you viewed her as whimsical and tame.
The way she faked, sung, and lied was a shame.
Still, I know this false Prioress today,
Characters such as this wont fade away.
The Miller modeled your retched Scot.
I too am Scottish, but retched I'm not!
Though we don't always view the world as one,
I have the faint soul of your pseudo son.
I too would flirt with the strong Wife if Bath,
And roam with the pilgrims down that God path.
Master at comic irony, you are
The church was corrupt, relics in a jar
Or a pardon for an extorted fee.
Friars with gifts for girls could not trick thee.
Twenty four of one twenty were finished,
But the affects will not be diminished.
They say you're number two in history.
For people like me, that's a mystery.
In a quill duel between Shakespeare and you,
You'd leap to number one, Shakespeare to two.