The Poppy & The Pansy
Quiet, the Poppy walked into the room;
her sight so soft and delicately hued.
Silence hung in the air, fragrance imbued.
Chills spread, ripples of her softest perfume.
The tired old cantank'rous Cattle, whom
if he's observed is shown as coarse and lewd,
hides his face, and like all of those so shrewd,
appears to be a flower, full in bloom.
Now if this Bull was naught but coarsely grown
the Poppy must refuse the Bull's advance,
for if the Bull's allowed a second thought
the Pansy's love is caught twixt fought and flown.
And Poppy's life now ever shall be caught
in Cattle's hell, bereft of Pansy's chance.
