Herein dire, wicked dream
Drunk on melancholy
Vulgar curse of ghostly thoughts
Devours merry mood:
Exotic bosom of seemly wench
Enticed thine affections
And with naught a thought
Thou did proceed…
‘Twas true! All work, no play
The very essence of my days
But my labors merely sought
To fashion us a brighter way
Our romance, it did stifle,
And, indeed, I could have been more mindful
But thou needn’t make a mockery
of my love by treating it as a trifle
A perilous decision:
Shall discontent lover,
Whom deceives with light of heart,
Be sanctified, given permission,
Lest his love shall flee?
Perchance grace envies such wanton desire that tempts haste.
Comments
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haste makes waste! I enjoyed reading this very much. I really like the style and the flow is wonderful. Great read.
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Why thank you much!! =)
I really appreciate you taking the time to read it and comment! Brought a smile to my face this morning...
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