The pauper boy and the damsel

Once upon a time,
There was a pauper boy who cherished a dime.
By some twist of fate he beheld a damsel high born,
Traipsing along the path of the hedges well shorn.
They stumbled into each other.
Strangers in a world of order.
Their world knew no bother.
The fair damsel made gifts of a dove and a rose.
But murder in his heart the pauper boy had little time for fancy prose.
By and by time wound them in a sensuous bind.
The pauper boy’s heart became too kind.
Alas if only he knew what disaster would befall him.
The darkness in his being he would not trim.
For the damsel’s betrothed had come with filthy luck,
And her guitar strings he would pluck.
She soon danced to his tune
And the pauper boy was lost in a dune.
Smitten he pined away.
For the dove and rose had become time’s prey.
She died to him a while later.
Even as her betrothed carved her heart into bits and butter.
Thereafter he would skip past her home.
Longing to see her smile in the window of the dome.
To catch a glimpse of the ghost
Who was alive and well; the parasitic betrothed’s host.
He bowed his head and trundled on.
Towards the sunset saffron.

┬ęSena Kodjokuma, 2013