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Alluring eyes
 

Gadzooks, but after another night of hot chambering and

Merry wenching I am fairly pooped, my sward as limp as

A strand of spaghetti drawn from a bowl of spag bol. I am

Drained of love, yet a pair of alluring eyes remain with me,

And I am persuaded to believe that they are both the

Cornerstone of my fatigue, and the bellwether by which

Sleep escape me.

 

Would that I could bottle such wizardry I would make a

Fortune next day at market, for who would not want a

Scoop of such beauty and what man in his right mind

Would not willingly give his eye-teeth for an hour in such

Effervescent company? Rested or not I shall be back in

The arms of my alluring eyes this very night before the

Clock strikes ywelve.

 

My horse is lame and thus I am forced to stay the week

In landlord quarters, which is fortunate indeed for my

Battalion ride this night for battles anew, but alas and

Alack, I must remain in the arms of my alluring eyes for

At least another seven nights straight for that is the right

Of kings, and I am not about to refuse my own good

Fortune.
 

© Joseph G Dawson