series1bk2.6.4

 

Her sweetness and sensitivity, a face painted  saintly often in the Renaissance era, steers a mere inclination to offer what I have for mutual ravishment and untutored looting. Is beauty to be courted? Or that's what I've been told. Old-fashioned in my cultural education, I stultify, like a brash probationer, if stood in the good presence of a nimble nubile maid. Graded (as I see myself) so high, I cry with foolish incredulity when I espy another - brother! - reaping admiration for graces developed without a demonstration.      I'll feign to be immune from Cupid's dart,      and suffer less within my wounded heart.