My poetry did charm and cheer
as I sat sobbing in my beer.
It held me (like a faithful friend)
when world of mine was at an end.
Throughout my lost and languid life,
(while shackled to a wolfish wife)
those stanzas bid me bide my time;
they sang sometimes; was so sublime!
In dungeon’s dank, dark days and nights;
temptations, trials, fond fancy’s flights;
when life had left me all alone,
and all my wildest oats were sown,
they whispered, in a still small voice,
(which made this rhyming rogue rejoice)
then vowed: true love would visit me
by streams of sweet serenity,
where I would tread my twilight years,
with Venus, through this vale of tears.
And from those tears I’d sown in time
I’d reap romance and real gone rhyme!