A Quatret To My Wife
A Quatret To My Wife
When hell has frozen over,
And Hades’s dogs sleep quiet,
Love’s plant the blessed clover,
Will bloom a mossy riot
Love’s urgent thrust’s a miser,
Brings lovers’ secret moan,
But woman’s touch, a riser,
Tis butter on a scone
And with this love I worship,
The path on which we walk,
Our voyage is such a fair ship,
Does vex all others’ talk
Written for contest 16/7/15
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