I cannot tell her who I am,
For I'm abashed to say.
I'm not beheld as a dear friend,
Though I hope to be one day.
Supposing, though, that she should guess,
Through riddle and through rhyme,
I would not blush with red chagrin,
Only thank her for her time.
And so to my Dear Duchess,
Suffice without my name,
For now, at least, I ask of you;
Indulge my little game.
A.F.
If it's a game you want, then it's a game that you'll get.
ReplyDeleteI hope neither of us ever look back with regret.
You're rubbing off on me as that was an unintentional rhyme!
As they said in days of old, 'let the games begin'.
D.S.