Wielding a tool, mighty and spiky
Mightier than either the sword or rod
He reigns, monarch in Fancy's domain
Sketching life in fanciful colour and mode
Which with pain and strife fraught
Or bright with gaiety and grace
In finer yarn than the gossamer thread
On the fabric of words in befitting verse
He steals away from the noisy crowd
In to the stillness of the cloistered cell
To dwell with Fancy's mystic charms
Weaving downy dreams at will
He recounts forgotten tales of yore
Of bloody battles won and lost,
Of lovers united, amour defiled, ...
To My Man (Portrait)
Growing out from childish pranks,
With the storm and stress of turbulent teens,
I locked within my mind’s cupboard,
A portrait vaguely sketched, but never finished.
Rough it was, though fancifully done,
The silhouette of a masculine figure,
The Gallant who would reach one day,
To hold my hand and own me his.