Oh, My Lady for your servant I am humble,
My Lady whose colors of reddish hue remind me much of wilted roses red,
Your beauty is oft forgotten,
My Lady Tarnish I do offer this silver broach from my mother, for you to weather with your well-trained loving hands,
I'll wear it like the highest honor one can bear, a testament to the love of such an item,
My Lady, I see your beauty in every unpolished chalice of pewter,
I see the blessings you give in every coin to pass through my hands,
My Lady, for your servant I am but humble, but please allow me to bask in the radiance of everything well loved by you.
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A Skip Down the Pathway
Kurgu OlmayanA collection of poetry exploring myself, my relationship with the world, and the relationship with the women in my life.
