My Dear
I was sitting on my porch one day,
Soaking up the sun,
Singing softly of my love for you
When the Queen of Sheeba sidled up;
Drenched in Jewels, stinking of wealth,
Speaking words of lust and power,
Speaking words of foreign charm,
Sliding fingers down my spine
And stealing shivers at my throat
Suggesting that we take a ride,
Slip into her Caddy,
And slide into the sun.
She said if only
I would Stray from you
Slip a bit, steal a kiss
Then she would shower me with riches.
See her on the sly,
She said,
Show her some attention
And I could save my sorrows for later.
I stopped then, Love.
Supposing that I left with her,
Slinking off, away from you,
Soaked to the skin with the stink of gold,
Smiling and in the black.
I saw this all inside my head.
And studied for a while,
While the Queen sat quietly,
Sulking at my feet.
Finally, I said to her,
“I cannot stray.
My love speaks more to me,
than all your gold could ever shout
I’ll spend my time, if not the money
To sleep at his side,
Struggling penniless,
Supposing that if my love were any less,
I would slip away,
and serve you, Queen of Sheeba.”

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