My First Duke

We stand before his last duchess

So young and beautiful, wearing

A steady gaze so loveless.

Why? I hear the duke is caring

And loving. I see it in his eyes;

A passionate love for her that appears

To have reached its demise,

dripping down in lonesome tears.

I see the curtain on the sides

Of the painting he loved so greatly.

His biggest love away he hides,

Making his passion gone so vainly.

May it be a desperate measure

To keep close his beloved treasure,

So others never grow affection

And risking between them, spiritual disconnection?

Perhaps the duke was in doubt

About her happiness for him and her.

Did he fear her bailing out

And therefore, turned insecure?

I am nothing like the young and pretty

Duchess. I can only hope to use my

Charm and be open and witty.

Anything to obstruct my bye bye.

To him and to others I will be happy and smile

So he never must be in fear.

I will make it worth his while

By him I will always be near.