Sir Thomas' Therapist Poem by Folayemi Akande

It is twenty past a year
Since the demise of your wife
You have wined and dined alone
With no company of your own
You have fought as brave a knight
To war your most tempest night
I feel your grievious scream
Your pale face wears its theme
Your eyes are blimp as a sea
With no wit nor ecstacy
Shall I acquaint a lovely dear
That warmly will ease your strife
You are lone as your bed
I want it all to end.
Forgive me if I am rude
Lo! your heart is frail and nude.