Nap caused poem
Had dream. Wrote poem.
Sweet and Pretty:
The old mans Tale
Do come and sit down,
Sorry, there's no tea.
But perhaps you'd hear,
A tale from such as me?
Ah good, I see you'll stay.
Not often I've guests here,
Among these darken forests,
Many tred with quaking fear.
Back in the season of '73,
I loved a fair little lass,
Like spun honey her words,
Forever and a day to last.
Sweet and pretty, she was,
So all the lads would say,
She laughed, sung, and sighed,
All in a pretty little way.
Perhaps an ill wind blew,
Out over the moonless moor,
When I looked into her eyes,
And felt not her usual allure.
Her eyes, while pretty yet,
Were cold as winter's wind,
And her lips against my neck,
Were colder still, my friend.
I asked her what the meaning,
Of this distance set between.
She just pouted ever pretty,
And called me "oh so mean".
I tried to let the moment pass,
But shivered and walked away,
Perhaps I'd see more clearly,
By the light of another day.
Yet each tred I trod it lingered,
And festered in my aching heart,
I thought of each pretty lie,
And the anguish there it wrought.
So back I walked up in the fields,
And she smiled perfectly; so sweet.
Said that she would forgive me yet,
If I groveled at her pretty feet.
I felt my nod, and aquessed then,
Sliding down; into her wishes flow.
I watched her cold and pretty smile,
Oh, to have known then what I know!
But she led me down many dark paths,
Each more blindly than the last one,
Until one day again I woke from spell,
And thought her harsh against the sun.
You may think me mad here, please say
That you won't leave until I'm done.
You see I did then a terrible thing,
And up to now have told really, no one.
Her treasures she kept close to her,
And over them she'd learned to gloat.
When for me, only, her coldest kisses,
I took my hands to her pretty throat.
And oh! How her eyes lit up so sweet!
With fear for death, she struggled, real,
Proud I was upon that blessed little day,
I had finally taught my love to truly feel.
Tenderly I laid her into earth's embrace,
So pretty she was then, so meek and sweet,
And there I knelt as so very long ago,
To throw my roses down around her feet...
Sweet and Pretty:
The old mans Tale
Do come and sit down,
Sorry, there's no tea.
But perhaps you'd hear,
A tale from such as me?
Ah good, I see you'll stay.
Not often I've guests here,
Among these darken forests,
Many tred with quaking fear.
Back in the season of '73,
I loved a fair little lass,
Like spun honey her words,
Forever and a day to last.
Sweet and pretty, she was,
So all the lads would say,
She laughed, sung, and sighed,
All in a pretty little way.
Perhaps an ill wind blew,
Out over the moonless moor,
When I looked into her eyes,
And felt not her usual allure.
Her eyes, while pretty yet,
Were cold as winter's wind,
And her lips against my neck,
Were colder still, my friend.
I asked her what the meaning,
Of this distance set between.
She just pouted ever pretty,
And called me "oh so mean".
I tried to let the moment pass,
But shivered and walked away,
Perhaps I'd see more clearly,
By the light of another day.
Yet each tred I trod it lingered,
And festered in my aching heart,
I thought of each pretty lie,
And the anguish there it wrought.
So back I walked up in the fields,
And she smiled perfectly; so sweet.
Said that she would forgive me yet,
If I groveled at her pretty feet.
I felt my nod, and aquessed then,
Sliding down; into her wishes flow.
I watched her cold and pretty smile,
Oh, to have known then what I know!
But she led me down many dark paths,
Each more blindly than the last one,
Until one day again I woke from spell,
And thought her harsh against the sun.
You may think me mad here, please say
That you won't leave until I'm done.
You see I did then a terrible thing,
And up to now have told really, no one.
Her treasures she kept close to her,
And over them she'd learned to gloat.
When for me, only, her coldest kisses,
I took my hands to her pretty throat.
And oh! How her eyes lit up so sweet!
With fear for death, she struggled, real,
Proud I was upon that blessed little day,
I had finally taught my love to truly feel.
Tenderly I laid her into earth's embrace,
So pretty she was then, so meek and sweet,
And there I knelt as so very long ago,
To throw my roses down around her feet...