The warmth, I welcome after winter’s chill
captured in letters where large tears have dried.
From one I thought for good, even for ill
I’d marry come the shadows of July.
Rare was her beauty, yet her greatest gift
was her keen wit and a splendid style
in her dress and dance, ‘twas almost as if
the gods looked down upon her just to smile.
I was envied by many close dear friends
save one who circled us with much intrigue.
Used lies and gossip to put a sad end
to lovers he both envied and deceived.
Worse, it seems she will keep that wedding day
with he, I called friend, who stole her away.
