Upon a pen you whispered, muse intent
On delving in further, my own mind
To birth the love in which my muse has sent
And planted the seed well past the nine.
But be'st thou a lover, not a babe
A companion that will treat a lady
And have every intention to stay
And perhaps, one day, kneel before me
But oh my pen, how I write it out
You shall be the most magnificent of your kind
Ne'er to skinny or to stout.
Handsome you are to be, in skin and mind.
There will be no talk of teaching, thou shall know
The greatest of the gentlemen about thee
Thou shalt have a place to go
To converse, lavish and lab about me
And oh dear pen, how the men will be
Ever jealous of your prudent wife
That they will all so carelessly
Whimper at their own out planned strife.
But who is to be the one that say'th
Who we shall take as friend or lover
Who is the one that we shall obey'th
Forsaken it is of us to discover
The path we walk, run and stride
Oh ink do not be peeved
For I be the chastest girl alive
To deserve the man who cannot breathe…
