The Witch’s Memory part sixty three

Roland the horse could only neigh his concern

For at that moment he was left to yearn

To hold her hand and firmly look at her

And tell her none of this would occur

She did not have to choose herself a mate

No matter what the possible fate

She could be a queen with no partner at her side

It didn’t matter who had tried

At once he regretted his own action

At pushing the very laws of attraction

If he hadn’t they would not be here now

At the whim of this bloated sow

Who wore his face and donned his voice

Making it seem as if there was no other choice

If he knew his girl she was sure to run

All the night to the rising sun