To Deborah Hale

To Deborah Hale:

A husband missed is Deborah’s bane
No longer able to weather the pain
The nights alone too much to bear
Must find a love that’s truly fair

No time to search, no time to find
A man to hold, a man to dine
A Christian girl, or so says she
A husband bought who’d set her free

So put a price on body and home
And tend to the seed you have sown
In a line the bidders have grown
To pay for your love and your home

So sad am I with not the coin
To pay for your house and your loin
No chance for me still your heart
But many others do no doubt

I hope you find your pot of gold
And with your sponsor together grow old
And find inside trust for the man
Who’d pony up and buy your hand.

Therealstubot


P.S. Deborah, I’m 42, a software engineer in central California, I think you’re hot, but you’re going about this all wrong.