By Wordley (R.H)
Submitted by wordley
Date: 2002 Mar 03
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An Answer (2)

To Gwendoline Morgan,

Oh dearest maid I have to leave, for other lands I'm bound
No more your champion can I be, my armour is weak i've found
A break within its firmest frame has let an arrow in
The bold sir Dylan has me accused of depraved and lustful sin
Oh dear maid, your youth and charm are not for the likes of me
Married and growing older in years, they number now fifty
A grave misservice was done t'other day when I answered your sweetest plea
All I sought was to lift your spirits high, to lend a sense of dignity
But bold sir Dylan misconstrued, and has murdered the rhymes so free
His electronic arrow pierced my keep, his words they did offend
He infered some lacivious intent, not the well-meaning words of a friend
And now I find the words have gone, this has taken so long to write
And I find that I can no longer see the way to sit at my keyboard and write