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All English Sonnets

Ah! PAPA—II

I did not like your compromising nature
You did not like my unworldly ways
I thought your station much below your stature
You disapproved my poetic forays.

You turned my toils, lazy gentiles’ game
While I was working for the goddess fame,
And in this process, wealthy men became
And others flourished on my famous name.

But once again you with me dirty played,
And went indeed and, on, me quietly died
I wailed inconsolably, loudly cried,
For, for me your approval was delayed.

Of one thing I was always sure about,
That of your love, I never had a doubt.

GREETING

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