Miyerkules, Abril 24, 2013

noble man with clean shoes

          The noble man with clean shoes
          Crying his fervor which made his own
          Into the wintriness is his imparting drone,
          Where balled I am, still in bed in mufti
          A door closing behind me.

          Fine were his wonted, chosen ways
          Pride projected chin slightly tilted
          Come florid words dignified, though wilted
          Come all, ye boys and men
          Come girls come women!

          They met him—the noble man, spruced
          Tied firmly to the feat of his folly
          Likes them intent, heedful to his glory,
          Cracked a few times but cut once
          Attempted the few, cut once.

          Fervent words dodging the wintriness
          But mind's in gossamergrace wafting
          In and then away again drifting
          Balled still on a bed that keeps me kept
          Rather fancy on a bed that keeps me kept.

                                  * * *


















Poem by yours truly.
Raw photo taken from:
                           guardian.co.uk

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