Old man D'Accord
Of New Brunswick shores 
netted listless rogue
In days of yore

Old man did wise,
to secure his rise,
'mongst the fisheries awaiting bounty from so a hurried great sea tide

Old man D'Accord 
who did adore
The chambermaid of the grace of old Montrose, his lord

And as did Wharton's Frome
He procured that tone
Of the sweet maids soprano tongue


But in her skin
Lurked a treacherous sin
Awaiting transit from the heart,her core

Prosperity lacking
Anger maddening
In the head of old man D'Accord

Last hours of crisp October
He sent a line, a closed knitted twine
To the bed of the great sea floor
And upon this twine, which he spun and signed
Sank the gentle flesh of his sweet maids order

His wrinkled arms
Closed burning ember doors
And his brow drew beads of wine & port

And with one last nod
Of her tangled heart
He did split the knot
And the end came down for the white haired man D'Accord

And in eternal purge
He relived that urge
To cut her from that Brokers touch

And spare no plea
To them at least

And at last no more
For himself, the quiet old man D'Accord