I chanced to be out and wandering,
In the shadows of the market square,
Then a noise disrupted my pondering
So crept closer to see what was there.
As I peered around the turnip stall,
I saw a young maiden in worn clogs
With a basket of burden not small,
At her heels were several yipping dogs.
She stood there straight and shameless
Small children around her danced a jig
Taunting her that her father was nameless
Sang that her pride was too big
She carried off her basketís burden proud,
Ignoring the looks and cruel taunting
Slowly walked away from the market crowd,
I glimpsed her face of beauty haunting.
The was no other thoughts came to me,
As I followed her slowly with a limp,
I mesmerize by her great beauty,
So to tell her I would attempt.
I couldnít keep up to ask her name,
For she never looked back toward the square
So in the shadows I leaned on my cane,
And she never knew I was there.
[This message has been edited by Poet deVine (02-23-2002 09:58 PM).]