I'll try to
live a little while I can
still sing
the songs ‒
those lays of silver tongue;
still walk
the walk ‒
that two-step of the young
pretender
(one who knows his stuff ‒
no 'wham
bam thank
you ma'am' in these quotidian
affaires
privées).
I know that Spring has sprung
and
Summer's summed and Fall's fall has begun.
A fiery and
uncommon courtesan ‒
a Beatrice
burning for her Benedict ‒
is what I
want, is what I need, is what
will hide
my heart from Winter’s icy tricks.
Yet
othertimes, I know that there is naught
but simple
Claudio within my soul ‒
I want a
Hero ‒
but then don't we all?
RJT
As I read this can hear your voice reading it - really like (Y)
ReplyDeleteThank you very much sir :)
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