Twenty Widows

He’s got twenty widows in his wake,
schemes for every day,
a calling card for every stay,
each night a new romantic.

Several times a week he breathes
stacks up Dear John letters in a pile
flicks his Bic and memories ignite
Onto the next lonely lady tonight.

He’s a hustler, a bustler,
he’ll take any fight,
he’s a stock yard rustler,
he’ll make her feel right,
for at least a night.

This seems a bit like a country song to me. Although I find interaction on wordpress very difficult, it’d be interesting to see what sort of verses others might come up with.

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Blow, Northern Wind!

Disclaimer: This is an inexpert articulation of a song originally written in Middle English. Using footnotes in the text, it has been somewhat faithfully reconstructed into a more modern form. The original (along with the footnotes which were used to reconstruct a ‘modern’ version of the song) can be found here. ┬áMy apologies to those that are experts in Middle English and who may cringe while reading my version.


I know a maiden in bower bright,strangeflag north wind
That is very pleasing to my sight,
Worshipful maiden, maiden of might,
Fair and free to deal with;
In all this worthy multitude
A maiden of spirit and pulchritude
Never yet have I known another
Lovelier on earth.

Chorus:
Blow northern wind!
Send me my sweetheart,
Blow northern wind!
Blow, blow blow!

With hair so lovely, long it lingers,
I long to frame her face with fingers,
Joyfully, our eyes would mingle,
That maiden so glorious in her bower.
Her lovely eyes so clear and pure,
Brown and blissful, so demure,
He that rested on the cross,
Knew no greater honor.
CHORUS

She is a crown of godliness,
She is a ruby of righteousness
She is a crystal of cleanliness,
And a banner of beauty.
She is a periwinkle generous,
She is a sunflower’s sweetness,
And a lady most loyal.
CHORUS

For her love I worry and care,
For her love sadness and dismay I bear,
For her love my bliss I’d share
And all I could ever have.
Without her love, I cannot sleep,
Without her love, all night I weep,
Without her love, morning and noon,
I long for no one else.
CHORUS