Wednesday, June 10, 2020

Hannibull Lee, a verse.

I could do so much for her,
If she only would or could,
and she for me,
to make a shine,
a prosperous glow,
from that kingdom by the sea

She would bring me salt pork,
we would share greens,
and sit and minutely chew,
as I had a bait of her peas.
Finishing with ice cream
and then cleansing our palates
with some minted iced tea.

But then, in my best polished shoes,
to quietly, somberly, visit her tomb;
why my own mind speaks to me
like an old friend that also knew,
that interesting bird Hannibull Lee

Just one more graven image
on my gleaming breastplate;
oh how the hostilities go,
other concerns,
to hawks and falcons thrown.

If I heard one,
then I've heard dozens:
"You should not, cannot
betroth your child cousin."
And with those talks,
I was okay,
and then I wasn't.

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