“Oooo-ah-ove me?” She wiffled
Oakeling his rumshuckle visage.
He shifty-simpered, voiding her yews
“Nay – another fair, I found,
No more I ove thee.” Off he trodded.
“Wah-ooh! Wah-ooh!” She cred,
“Tis’ slinky-mean, untrude?
Oh cheatster, cruddling swain!
Slighty, varpage and heartmean!
Faithtrue, to you, was missel.”
The lady wipt many orbles
Lo long throo many lornish days,
But o’er time, she mazed
Perseed, at last, his wickling ways,
Cognized the lossage – His.
© Sept 2022, Katharine Summers, All Rights Reserved