Alas, my name saint’s a decrepit king,
And I, a nonetheless intrepid king

Whoever lies and lies and tells the truth
Would never bow before a tepid king

I dial my Dick decoder ring and sulk
And think, a spotted ermine Leopard King

My queen is taken by the bishop’s pawn.
Am I mistaken for a vapid king?

But day breaks hard, the barnyard poultry cries.
And when the sun arrives, yclep it King!

You worship staring straight into his eyes,
I hit the register, a rapid king

The richer dead, the poorer gone before,
The middled mine. I’m not a crooked king

One Response to “Ghazal”

  1. Mrs. Chili Says:

    Rick, I just wanted to log in to tell you HELLO! I’m still reading!!

    Happy spring to you, my friend!

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