Sunday, May 13, 2012

A Merry Gathering of Needles

How many friends have you to speak of sir
That you cannot in the first place go to
Them who do await your coming, your sign
Of peace! a truce cannot be made by they
Who do quarrel and bicker without fur
To keep them warm! cannot be made true
Without the one to keep in the heat! Pine
Needles do crack when they burn, and so day
Doth scorch the ground when no clouds cover it.
Are your friends but needles that pop about
When time's get rough, and leave you to your fate
Of doom? Must you come to me without wit?
It seems that your friends did of you route out
Something that turned their love into great hate.

                                      A Merry Gathering of Needles, (c) Luke Bennette, May 2012

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