It
came upon me long ago
That I should be endowed
With whimsical meandering,
The art of wishful pandering
And with disdainful candor,
My self respect in tow.
Strapped in pert embellishment,
Impending, a development
Of nothing but a show.
Must
droll constraint confine one's soul
Upon the threatening sting?
Attempting straight and narrow things
Will ascertain the thoughtful strings
And confiscate such roaming wings
In the wake of a formidable foe.
|