Laurel’s Camp Bell

The foliage distinct, a sweet bay, evergreen —

You once waved by the shore happenstance to be seen —

By a shabby shy boy years too young to be sweet —

That forgot the corsage for his homecoming queen.

The shore shimmered blue, should have captured the ages —

But blond blue-eyed boys read too far fictive pages.

So, his head pickled off, blind to poise and her graces —

While her timid hand trusted his beasts without cages.

Laurel entered the camp with a bell fit to dance —

And the starry-eyed knight should have lowered his lance.

But, the helmet he wore convinced him why he shan’t.

Thus, the dunce there he sat like a brick in a trance.

Yet polite, sat upright, her loyalty stayed.

Could he not hear her hope as their time then there played?

Yes? The final song came, and his beasts took her waist.

But, his wine had not aged, and the crux had escaped.

So, the cold fog rolled in on the black sandy shore —

And the placid blue ocean, it was placid no more.

The tips of the waves hissed, reflecting the score —

But that bell she had brought should have rang for encore.

Should have rang for encore, should have rang for encore!

Laurel, did you hear? Should have rang for encore!

A man should have swept you away to the floor —

From that dunce, who did sit like a fat jellyfish —

Who then floated away from your salt-of-earth door.

JH

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