Monday, 10 July 2017

Beds, Bucks and Herts

A poem from 2017

This is my story

Sir, if you wish to bed me, first you must wed me
I'm a rare and precious thing
I will always wear your golden ring
For you alone, my love, I'll sing

Sir, you young buck, don't push your luck!
I'm a girl who's chaste
My love I will not waste
My pretty face I will not paste

Sir, if you want my heart, here's where to start
Show me respect
My love do not neglect
Cherish me and protect

This is my song

No comments:

Post a Comment