A Poet's Love III (Part 4)

We danced till the night run its course Until I noticed the brigade's dwindling force I bid my goobye to the maiden so fair The scent of her perfume still on the air Tip toe I went to the Governor's lair I entered his room, on the great pig I stare I grabbed a pillow for his scream to bear His neck I slit with tender care I have finished my chore The Governor's men approach the door I escape on the window with the sheets I tore I ran, I ran, away from the land of Moore Oh dear friend I wish you were here To see all my tears I miss you my friend of yore You are the only one I adore My friend this is my last No more looking to my past Endless peril await Just a smile to my uncertain fate Your Dear Friend, Sebastian Regan Johnson