An Inexpensive Lesson
While bereft of funds I set about
to woo a lass. I had no doubt,
possessed of charm, I could succeed;
kind words and flowers what I'd need.
She's fair of face and warm hearted,
or so it seemed until I'd started
to ply with words and selected posies.
Her interest? Feigned. 'Twas never rosy.
As i soon learned I had mis-thought
inamorata mine. Perhaps she ought
to look behind the cost of gift.
What value could those ardor bereft
e'er place on words, on those who craft?
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