Saturday, July 31, 2021

Our Aristocracy

You were a traveling troubadour 
Upon my father's castle door
A princess of nobility 
I'm promised to another king
So privileged we, materially 
But such responsibility
Like Eleanor of Aquitaine
I'm showered in the finer things
And you, my favorite one of these
Compose medieval poetry
On courtly love and chivalry 
Play mandolin and sing for me
Engage in witty repartee 
And when all lords and ladies leave
You lean in close and kiss my cheek 
At night I lay and think of thee
In glee and peace and reverie 
Of how your voice especially 
Does make me feel so heavenly 
Upon the dawn I call for ye
I'm told that you are absentee
So carry on dejectedly
With hope that you I'll someday see
Among our aristocracy