You turn my thoughts
Into a whirl
Of senseless words
That dance and curl.
Each morning when
I rise from bed
This foolish dance
Trips in my head.
Words take their partners,
Dance a waltz.
What purpose serves
This unasked schmaltz?
And thus love takes
Its unkind toll.
It steals my heart
And tears my soul.
I must break free,
Be roused from verse
And find the way
To break this curse.
A ride far North
To your fair land,
Upon the fell
I’ll take your hand.
A quick poem, with the simplest metre and rhyme.
Inspired by love and archaic verse.
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