"commoner" poems
See how this Trodden Commoner invites
With his Self cheers the Hero on the Board
As he predicts his proven Time and Sights
Another Inscrutable Win absorb
So much so it becomes the Nation's Theme
With Married Saints you dear Prince do us Proud
Even if your Light condenses to meme
At least those close to you will share your Cloud
I would only wish for your Halo's Morn
That a Wee Signature you could offer,
Poking your eyes from Dimensions and Form
And just see the Heart which knows no other.
Yes, I know. Seven-by-Ten Digits speak same
Most by Tradition. By nature are Dames.
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 11:27 PM UTC
Oh beloved princess,
I'm just a commoner,
I just drink cannabis,
Lime & shank I have.
You are daughter of the king,
I lack any maids or servants,
You are protected by shawls,
I lack even a blanket or rug..
Get married to a moneylender,
Marry a lucky man...
I have pieces of purity,
But I'm just a commoner,
I just drink cannabis,
Lime & shank I have.
You live in the palaces,
I roam the wilderness,
You are not used to it,
I am used to roaming.
Get married to a rich man,
Marry a lucky man.
I just have purity in me,
Yes, I'm a commoner,
I just drink cannabis,
Lime & shank is all I have.
I carry on my austerity in incense,
I drink a slurry of cinders,
I tame hundreds of snakes on my neck,
I will scare you off my saturnalia.
You need a man with wavy hair,
A man with wavy hair.
My hair is dishevelled,
I am a commoner,
And I drink cannabis,
All I have is a lime & shank.
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 12:07 AM UTC
728
Let Us play Yesterday—
I—the Girl at school—
You—and Eternity—the
Untold Tale—
Easing my famine
At my Lexicon—
Logarithm—had I—for Drink—
’Twas a dry Wine—
Somewhat different—must be—
Dreams tint the Sleep—
Cunning Reds of Morning
Make the Blind—leap—
Still at the Egg-life—
Chafing the Shell—
When you troubled the Ellipse—
And the Bird fell—
Manacles be dim—they say—
To the new Free—
Liberty—Commoner—
Never could—to me—
’Twas my last gratitude
When I slept—at night—
’Twas the first Miracle
Let in—with Light—
Can the Lark resume the Shell—
Easier—for the Sky—
Wouldn’t Bonds hurt more
Than Yesterday?
Wouldn’t Dungeons sorer frate
On the Man—free—
Just long enough to taste—
Then—doomed new—
God of the Manacle
As of the Free—
Take not my Liberty
Away from Me—
5.1k
How is life on lsd?
Well come on this trip with me.
Drugs are bad kids, they open your mind.
They allow you to reason, and see through the lies,
Losing reality, achieving duality,
The effects might be harsh, cause abnormalities.
Seeing your world and life differently,
Flowing through your brain so quick so swiftly.
When your eyes dilate, you no longer procrastinate
You get to pick between reality and your inner state.
Seeing that the small things are what matter,
Satisfying our thirst, for knowledge over matter.
Because on drugs you might enjoy walking,
You might enjoy smelling the grass or even talking
Expressing your mind, reasoning a thought,
And not being a cynics narcissist while you internally rot.
The experience on it impairs your mind,
And may leave you always behind
Behind with love, adventure, and discovery
Instead of hate, restrictions and agony.
But drugs are bad kids don’t take my advice,
the commoner lowlifes like us will someday pay the price.
The price of thinking differently, and enjoying life,
Walk this amazing world, with no need for strife.
Drugs impair your mind kids they do,
but what happens during them only chances what’s inside of you…
Oct 4, 2013
Oct 4, 2013 at 10:39 PM UTC
Oh, how the mighty art fallen
Lucifer, son of the morning star
Behooved by manner of thy own devices
How pompous thou hadst become to refuse to bend thy knee to man
It was pride that filled thee to burst
Had it not been but a few millenia later
Even your knee would have bent to the King of Glory
Whenst He did stoop down to the level of man
Even you wouldst have cried out "Lord, Lord wouldst thou not take upon thyself my raiment of glory? Clothe yourself as a king, not as a commoner."
Were it so much that us being made of dirt and you of fire that your proudness could render thee blind to our beauty as endowed by our shared Creator?
Though our mediums be different, were the Crafter's hands not the same?
Wouldst thou haft only humbled thyself, a different world we could have
I pity and thank thee, oh fallen one
For showing me how not to be
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 6:42 PM UTC
In the face of war
Loudly our fears drum.
The lioness ready for a feast
I heard Lucifer is angry against God
Battling to get Him to His kneels.
Blood is reigning
The blood sucker awaken
In pieces the sky has fallen
The moon now a commoner
And the sun a drunk wanderer.
Where are the innocence
The black cloud acquires,
Vultures need the flesh of the angels
Their bone the dogs also desire.
The dragon has been unleashed to flood the world,
This time, no one is right enough not to be wrong,
Yes, No saints, No Noah,
No ark to sail to a new world.
Death our creditor, we the borrower
The covenant can't be erased not even a word.
See what we have done to ourselves fighting our creator
See how we successfully drive ourselves to our destructions.
If God finally conquer the Armageddon
In the recreation of a new kingdom
I will want to be the Adam without eve
Dying to see what difference that will make indeed
Because this world is such a complicated trip
The returnees will hate to repeat.
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 7:58 PM UTC
There was a saviour
Rarer than radium,
Commoner than water, crueller than truth;
Children kept from the sun
Assembled at his tongue
To hear the golden note turn in a groove,
Prisoners of wishes locked their eyes
In the jails and studies of his keyless smiles.
The voice of children says
From a lost wilderness
There was calm to be done in his safe unrest,
When hindering man hurt
Man, animal, or bird
We hid our fears in that murdering breath,
Silence, silence to do, when earth grew loud,
In lairs and asylums of the tremendous shout.
There was glory to hear
In the churches of his tears,
Under his downy arm you sighed as he struck,
O you who could not cry
On to the ground when a man died
Put a tear for joy in the unearthly flood
And laid your cheek against a cloud-formed shell:
Now in the dark there is only yourself and myself.
Two proud, blacked brothers cry,
Winter-locked side by side,
To this inhospitable hollow year,
O we who could not stir
One lean sigh when we heard
Greed on man beating near and fire neighbour
But wailed and nested in the sky-blue wall
Now break a giant tear for the little known fall,
For the drooping of homes
That did not nurse our bones,
Brave deaths of only ones but never found,
Now see, alone in us,
Our own true strangers' dust
Ride through the doors of our unentered house.
Exiled in us we arouse the soft,
Unclenched, armless, silk and rough love that breaks all rocks.
2.6k
Shroud of sunsets
blankets the eye
Tombs of tiredness
Dwelve inside
From all the efforts
Lighting the path
That no one dares
To even sneak a peek
"I don't care"
Said the commoner
For I have faith
And hope to follow
As these combined
Can mould the world
From a shattered piece
To something that lingers
Sweat sips
From the knuckles of the fighter
As he respirates for glory
Surely, a mountain of burden
Is carried on his collapsing shoulder
The face of his is pale
Fear of the future
Nevertheless, he is resilient
Days come and go
Seasons change
Friends made and forgotten
Age gained
Today, I stand to you
To tell you a tale
Of the man of will
To never be extinguish
For he has achieved
For what he had begone for
A dream of his
That no one seems to believe
Mar 4, 2014
Mar 4, 2014 at 9:13 PM UTC
Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya;[email protected])
With audacious openness
Let me accept substantial lot of men folk
When it comes to efforts in love,
Most are misfortunate.
Every time they dare to built
Affiliative bonding for love
With beauties beheld
By their limited eyes
The invincible whirling spell
Of fortune’s fool
Beguile them forlornly
Down the social abyss of time,
I and my type not an exception to the club
Of the guys who swallowed misfortune
Like the dog of Theodore erotokorostos
Does to a piece of bone
In poetic obscurantism
Of the corruptible simple souls
Obtaining their pathetic lot from ***** and wine,
In the first trial I chanced on a neurotic peasant,
In the second trial I chanced on turn to be henpecked,
On the third trial I chanced on a beautiful paranoid,
My fourth trial chanced me a deadly stooge,
My fifth trial gave me the worst blow
As I forlornly chanced on the time’s public commoner,
My sixth trial makes me chicken
Had it not been poetic audacity
That makes me brave to chew in public
The lot of my misfortune as I recall
The bitter sweetness of chancing on
A beautiful epileptic kleptomaniac,
My tired trial in the waned efforts
Chanced me a lesbian with insignificant bisexuality,
O! I now tire off from misfortunes of love
With a last black chance on a neurotic money-maniac,
And this is the silent lot of men
In their usual efforts to fulfill their dreams of love.
Feb 28, 2014
Feb 28, 2014 at 9:43 AM UTC
I bought you a crown,
nothing special, it's cardboard,
decorated with construction paper and smeary markers;
it looks like an elementary art project, but you look like a King with it placed crookedly upon your head.
You told them to step aside,
the corners of your lips curled up,
slightly gaped teeth shone beneath your top lip,
you say "the Queen is coming through," and our hands brush as I walk by.
You are powerful, strong, confident —
the King of Sass,
the King of Humor,
the King of Charm,
the King of my heart.
I am frail, self-conscious, jealous —
the Queen of Uncertainty,
the Queen of Rosy Cheeks,
the Queen of Midnight Tears,
the Queen of Imagination...
After all, you only see me as a commoner.
Mar 9, 2016
Mar 9, 2016 at 6:59 PM UTC
Behold the King!
The Monarch, he comes.
Men of High birth to bow at the waist,
Head down, avoiding direct eye contact,
Less the King perceive from them a threat.
Women of the Court a deep curtsey,
Eyes lovingly appraising and focused on his Majesty,
That he may appraise them in return,
Maidens in hopes of finding his favors.
Common people, to sprawl prostrate on their Faces,
Eyes always down cast, to never look upon his Royal Presence,
Thus in turn, never to be noticed by the King.
Alas, though commoner I be, I peeked a look and beheld,
To my surprise, the mighty King was completely naked!
Shocked even more to see, His Majesty publicly exhibiting,
His oh so, insignificant manly short comings.
That indeed, this so called Princely man was in truth,
No more nobler than me!
Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 1:10 PM UTC
There are so many things wrong in this world,
If the constitution no longer has any effect on
The many kinds of laws that can be set in motion, can
We again vote against white/black marriage, for one?
Do you take the pieces of the puzzle and leave out
The ones that offend the common folk, even if it
Means forgetting about the right to the pursuit of
Happiness for ALL? Not just you and your "straight"
Drones who always do as their told?
We'll keep pretending that the rules don't apply,
If it's ruled unconstitutional, they'd still put it
Up for law, as if the constitution doesn't have
Or hold any sway on what is a decent choice for all.
*Why not vote this country as appealing to the commoner,
Why not make it a place where only the rich are served,
Why not make cameras that fly and can remove any privacy,
Why not try and keep Mexicans and Muslims out again,
Why not bring guns and children closer, who cares,
Why not endorse psych drugs and throw caution to the wind,
Why not make bombs big enough to end the world.*
This is the America we already know today...
Mar 14, 2016
Mar 14, 2016 at 8:05 PM UTC
She is silver-nitrate and coal.
An Egon Schiele painting
stretched on dream
and sullen sparking glances
tipped in gold.
It is starlight, burnt through a velvet field
that chains me here.
It is honey and hot wine
that haunts my sleep,
by the onomatopoeia
of obsession.
With a lunar caustic kiss
she hexed me.
Woven in her six-sided circle
those rubies in the
hollow of her neck
and fingers that shimmer
like ice.
The Sphinx of Eros.
That heathen curl.
Smoke to hide the ivory!
Spoke to lock the memory!
Caught in click clack shutters
by the silver foaming pond.
Froth from the chambers of
ebony rough hewn hearts.
O starlight!
That raptures me hungry
for bloodsoaked lips
red as fury!
And I sang;
O lord & commoner, I sang!
To the weepings of a sombre, sudden,
stinging violin,
in empty vinyl crackle
from music soaked in paint,
with a voice
like burning velvet.
Mar 27, 2012
Mar 27, 2012 at 1:51 AM UTC
The fairytale was my life.
But the story itself wasn't mine.
Placed in a town
In a time of kings and queens,
Princes and princesses,
I was a commoner.
The palace was my dream
but not for the money,
obviously for the love.
I saw him everyday,
Stealing food with his adorable monkey sidekick,
Swift and sly,
He was calm and kind.
We greeted from time to time
With the simple eye lock
And a sweet smile.
My heart danced for hours on end
Yet he'd have forgotten me by then.
It didn't matter-
He knew I existed,
That was what was most important to me.
I watched him graciously live
The scary life.
Risks of being caught
But he laughed it all off.
I begged for another word
As I followed him in my only clothes,
Stalking after him but only to get a glimpse
Of the poor prince he meant to me.
I dreamt about him every night
Even if our eyes only spoke-
Even if his eyes only said one word-
Even if that one word was
“Hello.”
But after days of analysing him,
Figuring him out through everything but words,
I was caught off guard-
Our eyes didn't catch each other anymore.
He forgot I existed.
He didn't acknowledge me.
He didn't smile at the least.
But the closer I got and I could see-
His eyes were blind.
There was someone else.
I saw him wishing for the world,
Wishing for her,
Thinking about her.
Wanting to be with her.
Needing her.
To say I was broken was an understatement.
He changed.
He followed into the palace,
He stayed there for long,
I barely saw him.
He changed from me into them.
He became a prince.
She accepted him-
It was still romantic.
He rode his flying carpet into the night
The same night I saw the stars as his eyes.
He looked at her with his heart,
The same way I hoped he looked into me.
He gave her more than the magic lamp ever could,
The same way I wished on the moon he could give me.
His love was in his heart.
My love was in my soul.
He dressed up for rags
Getting ready to accept riches,
Wishing on a genie,
For her and her heart.
Feelings broken I realised he had fallen in love.
He was Aladdin
He was never mine.
It was clear as the sky;
I wasn't his Jasmine.
Aug 24, 2015
Aug 24, 2015 at 5:48 PM UTC
It was meant for her
she felt it but yet
to her she couldn't get it
It was in her linage
but yet she thought
she couldn't get there
cus' she was a commoner
and of a forbidden race,a Jew
It was true her family was
wiped out by the Amalekites
leaving her and her cousin orphaned
still destiny had great plans for them
It was true that in the whole
of Persia she was among the most
beautiful maiden but yet her cousin
now her father prevented her from
leaving the house and coming in contact with the king
As she grew into a lady
she became more beautiful and
this actually made her the most
beautiful lady in the whole of Persia
As she was being promised
by her late mother her cousin
now her father gave her the Tresured Medallion
the Star of David when she
became a full blown woman
Since out of love and care
she ran not in disguise of a boy
but her self to the palace to save Jesse
her friend who they captured to make
a palace official but unfortunately for her
she was immediately siezed to be among the Queens to be
something she always wished for but
because of wht they did to her
the palace was her most feared place
At the palace in the harem
she found favour in the eyes of the royal enouch Hegai
and everyone in the palace
making her the most loved person in the palace
Hegai kept the secret of her being a Jew
As time went on she waited
for the night with the king
that single night that would change
everything for her and her family
and truely that night came and
she found favour in the king's eyes
and through this she became the
Queen of Great Persia
We all would be wondering
who this lucky girl is and what her name is
well this is just a little story of Jewish girl
who was greatly favoured by God
whose name was changed from Hadassah
to Star of Pussa to Queen Esther
Sep 1, 2017
Sep 1, 2017 at 5:28 PM UTC
Daily I listen to wonder and woe,
Nightly I hearken to knave or to ace,
Telling me stories of lava and snow,
Delicate fables of ribbon and lace,
Tales of the quarry, the **** the chase,
Longer than heaven and duller than hell--
Never you blame me, who cry my case:
"Poets alone should kiss and tell!"
Dumbly I hear what I never should know,
Gently I counsel of pride and of grace;
Into minutiae gayly they go,
Telling the name and the time and the place.
Cede them your silence and grant them space--
Who tenders an inch shall be ***** of an ell!
Sympathy's ever the boaster's brace;
Poets alone should kiss and tell.
Why am I tithed what I never did owe?
Choked with vicarious saffron and mace?
Weary my lids, and my fingers are slow--
Gentlemen, **** you, you've halted my pace.
Only the lads of the cursed race,
Only the knights of the desolate spell,
May point me the lines the blood-drops trace--
Poets alone should kiss and tell.
L'ENVOI
Prince or commoner, tenor or bass,
Painter or plumber or never-do-well,
Do me a favor and shut your face
Poets alone should kiss and tell.
1.9k
My love
goes everywhere
in sandals
wearing abalone
at her throat.
She calls herself
a commoner,
but I know
she is a goddess
from an older,
fiercer
order of things,
a warrior woman
struggling
to be free.
When she laughs
the birds listen.
When she touches me,
my heartbeat slows.
She says what she means
and knows what she knows.
Unafraid of who she is,
she takes herself
wherever she goes.
My love in sandals,
walking.
~mce
Jul 16, 2015
Jul 16, 2015 at 8:09 AM UTC
Lawrence Hall
[email protected]
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com
Beowulf and the Danish Passport Officer
From a recently discovered manuscript
The clapped-out Boeing wheezed to the gate
The ground crew jumped name-tags rattling
And swiftly moored the shining ocean-bird
Behind his plastic shield a Danish official watched
The travelers approach their passports raised
He stood peeking down at the naughty selfie
His girlfriend sent to his bold smart-phone
Shaking his rubber stamp he spoke:
“What is the purpose of your visit?
Business, or pleasure? Hwaet! I’ve stood
At this same gate longer than you know
Keeping our gift shops free from British footer hooligans
No commoner carries such fine matching luggage
Unless his Rolex and his boyish good looks
Are lies You! Tell me your name
And your home address and your email!
The quicker the better I’m off-duty in ten minutes.”
Beowulf answered him Unlocking his smart-phone:
“We are the Geats the mighty, mighty Geats!
Men who follow Malmo FF Malmo FF the great!
And we have come seeking Parken Stadium
Greatest of all stadia Its shining seats polished
By cheering generations of fat-full footer fans
We have come to cheer Malmo FF
While they whup up on Dansk Boldspil Union
Instruct us, watchman Where is the stadium
But first, where is the beer?”
The worthy officer
Answered him boldly:
“A true fan knows
The difference between fighting on the field
And puking in the stands and keeps that knowledge clear
In his beery brain I believe your babbling
Go forward, credit cards and all on into Denmark
Spend your money! Our exchange rate is generous!
And then go home bearing our love while we bear your money.”
(Stamp, stamp, stamp) “Tram stop to the left
Taxis to the right”
(Scholars everywhere will regret that here the burnt and torn manuscript breaks off.)
Oct 4, 2021
Oct 4, 2021 at 9:10 AM UTC
The Muted Commoner
You don't see them,
......Just past them......
Speak but unheard,
perforce, thus, muted,
against their will
blogs bread unread uneaten,
poem orphans better than us,
vine ripened unto death
Truly dare you say I/you the better?
Shamed heat, you spit,
outed, no penance offered,
non granted,
the forgivers are muted too
**so this be your charge,
so this be your salvation:**
free the mutes from the trance -
exhume, exhort find them
in the back pages, then
acknowledge that we are all
Muted Commoners.
find the poem unread,
revive it with a read, a heart,
and then you can speak your
Peace.
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 9:41 AM UTC
325
Of Tribulation, these are They,
Denoted by the White—
The Spangled Gowns, a lesser Rank
Of Victors—designate—
All these—did conquer—
But the ones who overcame most times—
Wear nothing commoner than Snow—
No Ornament, but Palms—
Surrender—is a sort unknown—
On this superior soil—
Defeat—an outgrown Anguish—
Remembered, as the Mile
Our panting Ankle barely passed—
When Night devoured the Road—
But we—stood whispering in the House—
And all we said—was “Saved”!
1.7k
Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya;[email protected])
She is an anti-thesis to Maya Angelou’s conscience
She stretches Maya’s awareness beyond rudimentary perfection
She is a public commoner with her insatiable palatability,
She eats French fries and pork like a carnivorous queen
Her instinct cannot save her from curse of pinching,
She is tall and slander with all virtues of beauteous individuality
Which the sagacious Friedrich von Schiller saw in frivolous Cassandra,
She has tattooed nose and ornamented death, not white in taint of alcohol hue
Chains of jewellery around her neck and hands, sea corals as beads around her waist,
She loves rough men like Alexander Pushkin who died in Duel, and the militant Othello
Who only woos by using the vaginal ******** of the alligator
As his Casanova’s love voodoo bequeathed to him by his mother,
She spends money from a foreign sweat, in thrifts and thrifts,
She commands unilateral faculty of non-numerical learning
With her indelibility dominating the world of Music and painting,
She dares not to dream of true love, but her faith is in weakness of men
Hot in bed like an Italian pizza oven and cold in reason like tundra climate.
The non phenomenal woman the mother of my first born son,
I took him to Oxford University for a degree course in land law
He came back with a diploma in being a barber, good in shaving!
He is so handsome in pettiness with mighty athletic mediocrity
Vices redolent of maternal genetics in the non phenomenal woman,
Mar 7, 2014
Mar 7, 2014 at 3:27 AM UTC
she is the devil
always ******** on about her crap
doesn't understand the commoner's way
thinking she should be #1
***** her and her ****
let her have fun in hell
freaks like her deserve worst things
Jan 7, 2017
Jan 7, 2017 at 9:16 AM UTC
She is quite the romantic
Classic, charming, a charlotte
A modern Jan Austen
A 21st century Marie Antoinette
Dazzling steps she takes,
Lighting a room with presence
A most exquisite escape
A most darling endeavor
Touched by an artist with
Ringlets of gold and eyes of oceans
An immaculate china doll
An irreplaceable countenance
When she descends steps
Every eye will be fixated as if she were
A once lost duchess returned
A secret lover revealed
I stand amidst the awestruck
But a mere menial commoner
Talentless
Ordinary
Empty
No jewels to wear about my wrists and neck
Just a fragile flower crown for a sandy head
I hope she can see me from where she stands
High above where I cannot be
Smitten with her grace and noble air
I cling to the thought that her eyes perhaps landed on me
Oh what I would give to befriend
Such a marvelous and enchanting being.
Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 11:14 PM UTC
I don't know what to write about you
You are so mysterious, yet alluring
You invite me in, but show me nothing
Of your soul, or of your mind
And now I look at you and hope
To see something of who you are
'Cause it's picking at me constantly
This lovely person who exists in you
You have so much, yet use none
You prefer to live like a commoner
Yet you're a princess
And while I'm just a servant-boy
I can't help but be enthralled by you
The most beautiful girl in all the land
Not in looks, or anything so mundane
But the beauty that lies within
Of which I have heard of, but never seen
You were my best friend as a child
We spent so much time together
You grew up to follow your family's line
I grew up to follow mine
And yet, despite having known you back then
I feel like you are not the same
You were so playful and so foolish
And now, you're all grown up,
A lovely women who hides herself from the shadows
Of the darkness of men who come
To ask for your hand in marriage,
But only because you're a princess
You remember when we were kids
How we used to hide
Whenever we were called?
How you used to jump on my back,
And I carried you around?
How you jumped on my bed in the mornings
To wake me up before sunrise?
And as teenagers, at sunrise
So we could sit up and watch it together?
And how you'd fall asleep soon after
On my shoulder, on the grass
I have loved you for so long
Not because you're a princess
But because of who you were
And what you showed
But you refuse to show the world
The truth about your soul
Of your mind that thinks such beauty
Of what the world could be
That is why I love you
That is why I care
Know that I will love you,
Even if you're not as beautiful
Even if not as smart
As long as you remain the girl
Who you used to be - so playful,
So kind, and wonderfully so.
Dear Princess, I know that I'm not worthy
Of your love, or even gaze
You don't like me saying "princess"?
Why, friend, is that so?
"I'm not really a princess,
In your head, I am, though.
And though you treat me as one,
And say you'd be a servant in my kingdom,
I am not.
I'm not because princesses don't fall for servant boys
And I … I love you"
Jan 15, 2017
Jan 15, 2017 at 3:02 PM UTC
That I shadowed your Invite, I admit
Though such Quip must be uttered in Reverse:
Me the Famed Star; You the Commoner's Wit
Was simply a Jest to see you Rehearse
Seriously, Hearts, be my Concept to Thank
Regardless if Certified your Profiles based
Then plomb this Gift; Appreciate be Frank
Like to the Learning of your own Good Faith
Until then, when your Avid Eyes digest
When Beauty's Kind be Beauty's Faith revealed
The Tongue-Tied Suitor; Glued to his Invest
As Roses sprinkled with his Puckers sealed.
Behold my Verses. Un-Worthy for your Name
Forgotten by Time; Though Loyalty sane.
Jun 22, 2013
Jun 22, 2013 at 9:46 PM UTC