Last time I fiddle with this thing, I promise. This still probably should be in the bad poetry contest. Anyway, one more try to post it correctly. Then I give up. The Courtier's Song Once upon a day in summer I remember wearing cotton and satin While she was draped in lace and silk. In her eyes, I saw no thought of sadness; On her lips, there was a shadow of a smile. Of her constant love, I was certain. Of my affection she could be certain In the heat of an afternoon in summer. Watching her walk made me smile. We held hands. Her skin was like satin. Only knowing it might end tinted the day with sadness That turned to mist staining her silk. Her dress was made of blue and pink and green silk Bright, beautiful and cheerful, its certain. Not even a shadow there forecast sadness Not even a cloud was cast this day in summer. A butterfly lit on her hand; wings of satin Fluttered and made her smile. There was longing and hope in her smile. Her words flowed softly as silk And her hair gleamed bright as satin That I was content I said I was certain On this warm, lovely day in summer I would have said anything to cast off her sadness. And what was the cause of her sadness When from one to the other of us flew a smile In the warmth of our affection and the heat of the summer, And soft touches flowed like silk Spilled from the bolt, its destiny certain To create beauty from death in colors brighter than satin. Warmer, too, than cooler satin, Ans so fragile it prophecies the sadness. Hidden in each beginning is an ending certain And there is a tear shining behind each smile. Still I remember the rustling of her silk As we strolled the last time that day in summer. That summer day colored like gold satin Faded, the sunset like silk slide away, the day into sadness. It was then she gave the last smile of which I was certain.