Tryst
Cuffed and collar’d – not entirely wedded n’ bound
Retaining strength with freedom recently found
In gallant splendour of posies he dutifully bade
She became his princess, and nonchalant maid
She washed away his tears with sweat of sin
An’ hell coloured hair that whipp’d his skin
Oh scornful mistress! How can you chide and glow?
Because, she smiled, that’s the way troubadour goes
Excerpt from “Tryst” © Katypoetess 2014
M.C. Newberry
Wed 17th Dec 2014 19:12
Shades of the passion of Elizabethan poets...
albeit that I am uncertain about the final line.
from "that's the way troubadour goes". But this
is a subjective comment from a lover of rhyme.
I'd rather have passions grow!