Stanzas For My Heart, After Clément Marot Poem by Josh Mitteldorf

No, dear heart, you are not dumb,
But nor are you a mystic sage,
Of wisdom you have ne'er a crumb
But you can read what's on the page.

Well-mannered you know how to be
And when you're rude, you know your bound
That proves to me your mind is sound
None charge you with stupidy.

But flattery is not my craft
And as myself I do address
(This makes me just a little daft)
We are no sage, we must confess.

Sad, gay, devout or libertine—
At life's buffet you'll choose your dish;
You can be generous or mean,
Live freely as you freely wish.

You need not fall flat on your face,
Or spring the traps that tempt our race—
Just know you're not a know-it-all
And fix you eye upon the ball.