Byronic Seasons
 


The Springtime of my life! Those girls so tremulous,
Who bucked like fillies when I rode athwart ’em,
Although they looked so modest and ingenuous;
And if they flagged, I’d spur them on, exhort ’em
To amatory feats ever more strenuous:
“Once more unto the breach!”, I’d “Agincourt” ’em.
(’Tis true that, by connections far from tenuous,
If there were poxes to be caught, I caught ’em.)
 
High Summer - married, matronly, or girly,
Still I pursued those lovelies, still I sought ’em,
The dark-haired beauty or the blonde and curly,
All keen to learn the saucy tricks I taught ’em.
The few who proved recalcitrant or surly
And could not be seduced? I simply bought ’em.
Yet sometimes, weary of the hurly-burly,
I crave the restful haven of life’s Autumn.

Brian Allgar

If you have any comments on this poem, Brian Allgar    would be pleased to hear from you.