Jon a fine equestrian
Sits high upon his
horse
A man of much
inheritance
Of lineage of course
Not ever glad to
suffer fools
Or those beneath his
gaze
Woe to them of sad
coincidence
Who bestow on Jon much
praise
The lottery of
happenstance
Fertile ocean mudded
puddle
Where a hope of
wealth creation
Imbues a place where you befuddle
No comments:
Post a Comment