I take my leave
 

Let me speak plainly madam, I have left your

Bed not because I am refreshed, but because

I am tired of your lies and your deceit. You fool

No one, did you think you would not be seen in

The taverns cavorting and chambering, loose

Garters to your hoes, your placket undone?

 

Come madam, you must think me a fool not

To see, not to sense your indiscretions, your

Infidelity. I had you down as a good woman

But now find you no more than a shipyard

Doxy, suitable only as a poor man's comforter

When drunk and little else.

 

I take my leave madam. I trust you may find

What you seek, for my part, I cannot sleep with

The threat of a cudgel in the night or stumbling

Footsteps on the stairs out to win what could

Be had for coppers…

 

© Joseph G Dawson