Some say the writing’s on the wall for Todd.
Some say our love is just a dalliance.
My canvass is as narrow and as broad
as Ardour wrapped up in Ebullience.
Were your silence loud pleas, they would impress.
Were your pointed ignoring wounds, they’d run.
Still as art, I stand in state of duress.
Gone is all my joy; departed all my fun.
Whether or not you respond, it is moot.
I’m at sea with him now; adrift, alas!
Buried at sea, a treasure-ready loot.
But you’re high and dry, a lass full of class.
   I wonder what your impression might be,
   if I took arms against this troubled sea.