My quill is now sharpened; my knife laid aside.
So now for my missive to start.
To think that you, promised to me as my bride,
Should tell me that we have to part!
When you dropped your kerchief (and was it by chance?)
Your eyes met his eyes and I knew
There was much more than gratitude there in your glance,
And I saw that he noticed it too.
*
You hussy! You trollop! You bobtail! You wench!
They are laughing at me in the street!
You treat me as though I were some sort of stench!
To think that I once thought you sweet!
*
But stay! See my pen knife laid there close to hand!
A knife can cut more than a quill!
I'm feeling the blade! It is sharp! It is planned!
You will learn that a pen knife can
KILL!
*
A pen knife was so named because quill pens were prepared with it.
Preparing a modern quill.
*
*
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HOVER BOY!
I didn't take this picture! But the concept caught my eye.
A little boy who's very brave, pretending he can fly!
High up in a sky-scraper, on a strong transparent floor,
He can spread his arms and swoop straight up and hover there and soar.
The buildings way below him look exactly like small toys,
And he knows he is the envy of all other little boys.
He certainly has a head for heights! He thinks that he's a bird!
Would I be prepared to do the same? What me? Don't be absurd!
*
