Violets and strings are how I think of you, that dance in velvet colours that aren’t always blue .
Hearts that murmur that are all  laced with strings ,
The bugle that sounds in the early hours is a dove ,
Is only captivated by your love .

And so as the birds awoke to  this melody of spring ,
then let summer awake in violets betrothed to their Queen .
Let bluebells fall when ever she is near ,
and castle trumpets a fanfare my dear ,
and minstols play their tamberenes when you are awake oh does
thy heart not leap to the sound .?
And when you raise your hands in all but jest ,
do. not the red wing and field fares migrate at your request ?

So to what accord did  that man lye upon her  breast ?
For he doth trouble my heart ,
that should beat even faster when he is near ,
and now wild horses have carried her  away ,
and all I can see are red kisses whey he lay ,
for  now I have tooth decay ,
for all her  sweet promise s only blackened my teeth
as blood now Stains those lovely silk sheets ,
O O food of my love,
was it so sweet in the mouth ,
but left a bitter taste ,
When all my teeth had fallen out .