Ring
MONDAY, MAY 25, 2009
The Ring
He found me a ring, just a little ring,
Not what you would call, a fancy thing.
Intrusions devoured, by those forsaken
Frequency of detection, is mistaken.
Shady wood, canopied leaves above
Ensnare the heart, with dauntless love
Waiting to be found, in splendid idling,
That left me lost, in sweet imagining.
His tulips, verdant striations, conveyed
Shades of dark, and light, that strayed.
Decadent garnishing, of fondant, confection,
Fear infested concern, sharpens, the question.
Nuances, that his intellect, will dissect,
Weary disconnected lures, that interject.
Graduated ideas, singularly inculcated.
Thus, cold steel crimes, might be expiated.
Too high price; for such a pretty thing,
As his priceless, rare, and binding, ring.
Copyright? Sapphire Eagle
