His ass; a tale each women said.
Of one held high - he rendered it.
Like men of past to honour it.
A rogue like him - a dawn of wit.
They followed him a stern dead hem.
Each judged him; sire'd for him.
To each love they were fair and grim.
And some would say they're all a whim.
Some do bawk and claim him nay.
Most keep circles; waits and times.
Elite approach to spread their chimes.
While late provoke him for his crimes.
One man's wake that goes oblivious.
Her clueless cause for dancing.
Love together comes 'a prancing.
THE END; his soul will wait for lancing.