The reigning monarch's hammered earth,
my foot upon controlling girth
nature alone encircles worth
as I go on to capture hurt!
Oh stop, the chiding from the Church
the fault deriding my sake's birth
the fool abiding in the lurch
does mock it all, while I research!
Oh stop the hour, but yet occur
my soul's fate's prism, without slur
and stop those moments when you were
my truest love, without demur!
That snow that melteth down the stream
doth barter not but by degree
and shares its focus merrily
then also stop ~ the poet's fee
must focus rhyme . . . eternally!
Copyright © Paula Larson