The Bough
The Bough
My pretty lady, how art thou?
My eyes are glued to thy picture now
And I can't help but wonder how
Thy lips I'll kiss someday, if thou would allow.
Many a king, at your beauty would bow
Offer themselves, your fields to plough
Buy thee loads of diamonds, ferried on a scow
And build thee a palace, by a peaceful lough
Not a noble; I work hard, till sweat falls off my brow
Yet,thoughts of thee are always in my heart somehow
And I wonder if my lady can truly avow
That, though there be nobles on thy tree of friends, I will be the bough
Copyright © Sandison Jumbo | Year Posted 2016
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