Marry a Woman

A conversation between a lady of noble birth and a certain gentleman as recorded by Steven Ureke in one of his Poetry Journals. 

O, maiden! 
What beauty you portray. 
For a mother, 
You are perfect for my children; 
And for a companion, 
You are Eve 
But more obedient. 

                   O, ragged man! 
                   What audacity causes you
                   To dare woo a princess like I?
                   In my kingdom, 
                   Men like you live and die 
                   Like pigs in a sty
                   On a deserted home. 

Forgive me if I tread
Further than my feet can go. 
I dare woo a princess because I dream:
I dream of becoming a King
Although I am no royalty. 
What way could be shorter
Than to marry a princess? 

                  If you brought a diamond ring
                  And provide more; 
                  More than my father ever could, 
                  Then I will reconsider. 
                  If you wear silver for shoes and 
                  Live in a house made out of gold
                  Then I will be your wife! 

What shame! 
All the riches of my household 
Will not amount to a single shoe of silver, 
What more a house made out of gold. 
If I can put a roof over your head 
And on our table, food; 
Will that be enough? 

                  How can I trade extravagancy
                  For food and a roof and love? 
                  I dreamt that for my honeymoon
                  A visit to the moon.
                  On birthdays,
                  A star for a gift. 
                  I certainly am not for you. 

I live off my sweat and blood:
From hand to mouth 
And a princess is not for me. 
If you sat for a while and listened 
To my vision 
And the things I see in my dreams
You will know I am worthy of your heart. 

                  What offence! 
                  My heart is an Emerald. 
                  It is coated in Jadestone. 
                  I choose who is worthy a knight
                  And you dare claim your worth?
                  You are a weed that has grown
                  Where it is unwanted. 

O, maiden fair, 
It is only fair that I leave. 
My love is a reality; 
One you have always read in books
And admired. 
I could wear the armor 
In your father's closet and earn his trust. 
Alas, you deem me unfit! 

Ages passed and days turned into seasons....

Check out my Facebook page for full script. 
https://www.facebook.com/100746275117651/posts/136848318174113/?app=fbl
Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

One Avatar
December 2, 2020 at 8:09 AM
Nice poetry Steven..
Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace