Fables of a Romantic Literature Addict

Take child! O my Dear, you're right,

A deer truly does take on flight!

It took off with our firstborn son

And didn't return 'til the night!

O! The exclamation, I said -

As my face turned a shade of red -

What things this night inspires in me!

How glad I am he's not dead!

And now I sit in a mudded trench -

As war is bad - like Judi Dench

Mais avec a sex change and better acting

As bullets rain upon this... trench

Recall ye not our childhood days?

The gaiety of all the gays?

Does it not inspire a thing

Recalling all our bullying ways?

We'll, all of us are fine for gold

So war's okay, I'll just turn old

Si c'est possible, if it's okay

If not I died in the best of mold!

So now we're dead, and all we see

Is a distant, scented memory

Portraying gardens of our youth

And how war's bad, as we're not free.

— "Ode to a spontaneous thought I had one evening sitting on a park bench" by Peter J. Wordmacher