Did happenstance just make me wait
By Cupid’s partly open gate?
Wherein I spied a comely maid,
As upon loves harp she sweetly played
A touching tune with words divine
That at once I vowed she would be mine.
She glanced at me with eyes demure
And a smile that said ‘be mine monsieur’.
With joyful step I strolled away,
Planning on another game to play.
Then crafty time came swirling by
And she looked at me with saddened eye.
In my garret cold I now pine away
That happenstance destroyed my day
And left me a sad but wiser swain,
To not trust that fickle word again.
2 comments:
There's no doubt you craft a poem well, Adrian. A lyric poem (I hope that's right! Have to check my definitions) that deliberately makes use of a past style to deal with a timeless theme. Thank you again!
A classical style certainly! I think you could craft a poem about anything Adrian. Looked up my literary terms dictionary on 'lyric' and this definitely fits the bill- "...expresses the feelings and thoughts of a single speaker in a personal and subjective fashion."
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