Maker of love,
May the prayers I offered thee be nulled.
For I am sorely wronged
By the damsel
I hear it!
O yes, I hear you!
The magic of her voice cries again!
Rising and falling in pitch
There is but one for whom I’m startled
From the start, the starter made it so.
Be it the winds would go wild and whirl,
That the trees would bend, twine and twirl,
It’s a tale
Tailored for the hearing of
the narrow minded.
I buy no meaning from its lines
Beauty has many names.
In the year of our lord 1954,
It came to My Lord in the letters, Lady Katherine E.A.
The dauntless beauty, made by its maker