The Pen and the Rule

He wrote he sonnets by the score,

     And praised her neck and arms;

In language elegant and fine

     He poetized her charms.

He wrote a deep, inspiring book,

     To her ‘twas dedicated;

And as she was quite beautiful

     She was not over-rated.

She thought he was a genius rare

     And praised his work in turn;

She was the one in all the world

     To make his genius burn.

And for her songs he wrote the scores,

     He was a fine musician;

And for a time it seemed the twain

     Dwelt in a world elysian.

And so to make the tale complete

     He should have gained her hand;

But she was practiced, and he

     A genius understand.

Alas! The ways of love are strange –

     Oft cupid strikes a panic;

She wed his brother who was but

     A prosperous mechanic.

Nov. 10, ‘10